


Locked Wheels

by we_are_all_irrelivant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dave has PTSD, Dave takes a lot of pictures of Karkat, Disabled Character, Disabled!Dave, M/M, PTSD, Photography, Physical Disability, SchoolPhotographer!Dave, WheelchairBound!Dave, Wheelchairs, forgot to mention that because its totally true, of fucking course, thats in here too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 83,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_all_irrelivant/pseuds/we_are_all_irrelivant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Great. Just fucking great. First Karkat's dad dies, then he has to move halfway across the fucking country with his brother and his stupid fiancé to some shitty suburb in fucking Houston, and then he ends up at the same school as world famous, self-proclaimed asshole Dave Strider. Except... Dave's in a wheelchair. And for some reason, he won't stop taking pictures of him. And he's kind of... nice? Not what he expected. Not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ((disclaimer: i am not a doctor by any measurable means dont treat me like one i am so so so so so sorry if i ever get any medical stuff wrong i dont know what the fuck im doing feel free to shit on me for it as much as you like id really appreciate help on writing it too so if you think you can help me please please please do))

Dave stared at the wall silently, tears drying on his cheeks. He'd only just stopped crying a couple of minutes ago, and he was starting to go into a period of silence and deep, pressing darkness. He'd been drifting between these two states for the past week now.

He could still hear it, the sound of metal scraping metal, loud, like a bomb going off, the screech of tires on the road, the airbags deploying. Dirk's scream. His own. And then, the smell. Gasoline. Fire. Burned rubber. Blood. He was upside down. Something was dripping on him; something else was clamped across his waist. He couldn't move anything from the hips down. He tried to wiggle out, tried to get himself free, tried to unbuckle himself, but he couldn't. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything.

All he could do was watch.

Dave pressed his face into his hands. He let out a soft, trembling sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He heard the door open and tensed automatically. He wasn't in the mood for this again.

He had pushed against the dashboard as hard as he could before something pulled in his arm and he had to stop. He sat back, breathing hard. Something ran into his eye. Everything was red. It was hot, burning hot, and the smell of smoke burned in his nostrils. No. He wasn't upside down. Not all the way. Almost. Close enough.

"Dirk," he croaked hoarsely. "Dirk, I can't... I can't move. I don't... I don't know what's happening, I can't..." He looked up at his brother. "Dirk?"

"Dave?" The voice was soft. Everyone had started speaking to him like that after it happened. He'd once had a panic attack when something fell in the hallway. A lot of things gave him panic attacks now. Heat, the smell of heavy smoke, the sound of metal, loud noises.

Stairs.

Dirk wasn't responding, no matter how much Dave tried. He tried to reach out and touch him, but he couldn't lean too far to any one side without fiery pain shooting up his side. He pushed gently against the dashboard again, panting softly, tears stinging in his eyes. Sweat ran down his face and he felt something on his cheek sting. When he reached up to touch it, he found a small shard of glass stuck into a long gash. He winced and hissed when when he touched it and his fingers came away wet and red. He tried to move his foot, to maybe push back against the floor of the car, but nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

"Dave, are you... Are you ready now?"

Dave didn't respond. Fresh tears had started streaming down his cheeks again.

"Dave, you can't keep sulking like this. You have to..." The person sighed. "You have to try and move on."

Move on. Right. How was he supposed to move on when he could barely even move?

Dave pushed against the dashboard again and again, tears staining his cheeks and burning his cut, desperately trying to move his legs. He was panicking now, his breath coming hard and shallow. Dirk shifted beside him and groaned softly. It was the first sound he'd made in almost ten minutes. Dave was relieved by it, he had been starting to think he was dead, but he was too distraught over his legs.

"D-dirk, I can't," Dave gasped fearfully, "I-I can't move my legs. I don't-- I d-don't know what's wrong, I just-- I c-can't--" Dave curled his hands into fists and hit them weakly against the dashboard. "I can't... I... Help me... Please... I need you to help me..."

"Dave, c'mon. Please. Let me help you. Let us help you. You don't have do this alo--"

"Shut up," Dave muttered, his voice tight and trembling with anger.

"Dave, please. You can't stay angry forev--"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Dave could hear the distant sound of sirens, faint but getting louder. He looked over at Dirk. He was slowly coming to, moving and groaning every couple of minutes. He had a deep cut across his forehead, the kind that would probably need stitches, bleeding all the way down to his chin, and the window on his side had shattered and there were now several large shards in his face.

"D... Dave?" Dirk said softly. He grimaced and grabbed his left shoulder. "Ah, shit..."

"Dirk, please, I can't--" Dave gasped. "I can't move my legs, I don't know what to-- Oh, god I can't even feel them anymore... P-please, help me..."

Dirk furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" He looked down at Dave's lap. "You can't...?"

Dave shook his head. "No."

"Dave, look at me." Dave kept his face down as Dirk walked around to face him. Dave glanced at him and grimaced slightly. The bruises on his face were finally starting to fade, but the cuts under his left eye were still raw and red. The laceration on above his eyebrow was under a thick layer of gauze, but Dave could still remember what it looked like. How wide it was, how much it bled. He hadn't been able to believe there was even that much blood in anyone's body. He'd been wrong; the gash on his thigh that didn't stop bleeding for half an hour confirmed it.

Not that he felt it.

"Hey, hey, hey, i-it's ok," Dirk said quickly. "Don't... don't worry. Look, th-the police are almost here. You're gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine." Dirk hissed and exhaled sharply. "W-we're ok. We're gonna be ok."

Dave couldn't reply. He was already hyperventilating and he was starting to feel lightheaded. His legs were badly hurt, he could tell that much, but he couldn't feel any of it. They had been burning dully for a while, but he twisted his back trying to get free and then suddenly, nothing.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, please, I can't..." Dave breathed. "Please..."

Dirk squatted in front of Dave, his face serious. He had to lean awkwardly on his right side, his left side still badly bruised and his left arm in a sling.

"Hey," Dirk said gently. "You can't keep this up forever."

Dave didn't reply. He didn't care if he couldn't keep it up forever. He would keep it up for as long as he could. It was the only thing that actually made sense nowadays.

"Dave. Look at me."

Nothing.

"Dave."

"Dave!"

He looked over at Dirk, his eyes unfocused and darting. His entire body was covered in cold sweat and becoming increasingly numb. There was so much blood on Dirk's face it looked like he was red. He couldn't breathe. There was something gripping his throat, some invisible force that was choking the air from his lungs.

"Dave, look, they're here. The ambulance is here. Ok? W-we're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. Don't... Don't panic, ok?" Dirk pounded on the roof of the car, which was almost parallel to the ground now, and started yelling. "Hey! We're in here! Somebody help us!"

"You have to let someone help you. You can't do this on your own."

Dave squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head hard. He could feel tears rising in his chest. And he didn't like crying in front of Dirk.

It made him feel weak.

Dave could only watch weakly, starting to fade in and out of awareness, as the paramedics finally got to them and worked to free them from their prison. They tore open the roof and dragged Dirk out onto the road. The sound he made when they grabbed his left shoulder was deep and guttural and sounded more animal than human. Dave saw him writhing in pain as the paramedics descended upon him.

The firefighters had to use a pair of hydraulic saws to cut off the badly crushed passenger side door before they started trying to Dave out. They couldn't get the dashboard up more than a few inches, so they cut away as much as they could, but his calves and feet were still stuck under the engine block, so they had to just pull until something gave and yank him out. His legs ended up mangled and bloody, bent in several unnatural places, his foot twisted almost backwards, with a deep gash on his right thigh that was practically pouring out blood. But the thing that made Dave start sobbing and breathing harder was the fact that he couldn't feel any of it. He couldn't feel any pain, and the sensation of the blood running down his leg barely registered at all. The only thing that kept him from straight out howling in fear was the sight of the car. It was almost on its hood, all its sides crushed together, pushing it into a flattish mound. The front had been crunched back at least a foot or two, and the part of the roof still on the car had folded like paper. All of the windows were shattered and the glass littered the ground. There was a smear of blood on what remained of the windshield. Dave didn't know whose it was.

"Ok? You can come to me, I can hel--"

"I don't want your help!"

Dirk stopped and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly, but he didn't say anything.

Dave had finally starting crying again. He gripped the fabric of his gown in trembling fists, tears dripping from the tip of his nose into his lap.

"You don't... You don't understand..." Dave said tearfully. "You don't have to deal with this for the rest of your life. You're not... You're not like this..." Dave felt his breath hitch as he started sobbing harder, and he covered his face with his hands, too ashamed to let Dirk look at him.

"Dave..."

"Dave?"

He craned his neck around, difficult with the brace his head was in, to find Dirk and saw that he was a couple yards away, being wheeled into a different ambulance.

"Dave? Look at me. Look here. We're gonna be fine, ok? Don't let the car scare you, ok? We're gonna... We're gonna be ok..." That was the last thing Dirk said before they wheeled him into the ambulance, shut the door, and drove away.

"Dave, that's not--"

"Yes, it is!" Dave shouted. "You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be able to move on after this. But I can't... I can't even look at myself without seeing what happened. I can't--" Dave whimpered quietly. "I can't ever forget it."

Dirk was silent for a moment then exhaled softly. Dave kept crying into his hands and he saw him move from the corner of his eye. Dirk moved to his side and gently placed his hand on Dave's back. Dave tensed involuntarily for a moment, then relaxed. He stayed there for several minutes and just let Dave cry, not saying or doing anything, rubbing his back ever so slightly.

"It's not..." Dave gasped. "It's not fair..."

Dave started to panic a little with Dirk gone, but he couldn't show it. He was being strapped down in about a million places. They wheeled him into his own ambulance and started off. The first thing that felt wrong was how fast the ambulance was going: considerably faster than Dirk's had gone. The second was how all the paramedics kept glancing at him, worried looks on their faces. They were still busy trying to stabilize him, and by the time they got to the hospital he felt numb and chilled, drifting in and out of consciousness. He was breathing heavily and yet still felt out of breath. As they started cutting off his blood soaked clothes, he overheard one of the paramedics whisper something to a nearby nurse. It was the last thing he heard before he slipped away:

"Possible paralysis..."

"It's not fair, I can't even..." Dave curled his hands into fists and pressed them against his eyes. "I can't even fucking..."

"Hey," Dirk said gently. "Don't think like that. I know this all sucks, and I know this is all really hard and really shitty, but you... You can't keep focusing on that, alright?"

"What else am I supposed to focus on, then?" Dave spat, looking back at Dirk. "Besides this? The thing that constantly reminds me that I can't fucking walk?"

When Dave woke up, everything felt clean and soft and white. Bags and monitors and tubes fed into and out of from him in every direction, creating a beeping, hissing nest of wires and tubing that extended out and around and above him like some kind of grand creature. Every part of him felt like it was wrapped in gauze and he just generally felt a way he could only describe as "fuzzy". All the cuts and lacerations on his face and arms and legs had been sewn shut and bandaged. His legs were in bulky metal splints all the way from his hips to his ankles. The glass in his cheek was gone.

As was, the doctors told him a week later, his ability to walk. Possibly ever again.

Dave closed his eyes and let out a choked sob. "It's not fucking fair... It's not fucking fair!" Dave started hitting his thighs again, punctuating each word with another hit. "It's not! Fucking! Fair! Why won't you just fucking work?!"

"Hey, stop. Stop." Dirk roughly grabbed Dave's wrists before he could bring his fists down again. Dave whimpered quietly, slowly shaking his head as tears streaked down his cheeks. "That's not gonna help anything."

"Why won't they just work already?" Dave gasped between sobs. "Why... Why are they like this?"

"I don't know. But sitting here hurting them more won't help any of us. Ok? All we can do is try to deal with it." Dirk walked around the wheelchair to face Dave, his wrists still in his hand. "Alright?"

Dave held Dirk's gaze for several seconds before he took a soft shuddering breath and nodded.

"Ok. Good." Dirk let go of Dave. "Unlock your wheels."

Dave reached down and fumbled to find the lever and pulled it towards him. The wheel locks clicked back and he started to drift backwards ever so slightly. Dirk caught him and went behind him to wheel him from the empty hospital room he'd hidden in this time. Dave stared down at his lap, not wanting to be seen or to see anyone, shame and embarrassment welling up in his chest, as tears continued to slid down his cheeks and drip off the tip of his nose.

Dirk wheeled him back to his room, with its web of equipment curling over his bed, a new machine being removed every week, its pathetic pile of stuffed animals and cards in the farthest corner, from people at school and elsewhere in the community. He didn't even know half the people who had sent him things. The only one he liked or even wanted near him was the blue and white teddy bear that read "Get Well Soon!" across the stomach. John had gotten it for him a few weeks ago, when the news of the accident had only just gotten out. It was one of first things he got while he was in the hospital. That one sat on his bed next to his pillow, propped up and smiling its empty sewn smile. It had been about the only thing keeping him sane in the past few weeks. Dave looked away, his cheeks burning. If only they could see him now. Dave Strider, the cool kid. Yeah right.

Dirk wheeled the chair up next to the bed and waited for Dave to pull himself back onto the bed. Dave struggled, twice not being able to grasp the edge and almost falling once. Dirk caught him and held up his legs until he was able to finally scoot back and sit on the edge. Dave stared down at his legs, pale and skinny in comparison to the heavy black metal splints, the gaping hole in his right leg covered with a thick pad of gauze. He knew it should have hurt, it should have felt like there was  _something_  there, but he felt nothing.

"Do you wanna lie down?" Dirk asked. His voice sounded far away and muffled.

Dave nodded numbly. Dirk leaned over and picked up his legs, moving them over so that he was lying down on the bed.

Dave closed his eyes, fresh tears dripping from his chin.

He hated this.

His life was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!  
> so  
> this is a thing now.  
> the summary literally, that all it is right now. im working fervently on chapter 1 ((its taking a little while because i for some reason wrote chapter 2 first so)) but once i get it done, its gonna be greeeaaaattt.  
> i dont have much to say for now, but be on the lookout for chapter 1 within a week or two ((also prepare yourself for LOTS of wheelchair jokes)).  
> see you next chapter.


	2. Chapter 1

The aggressive beep of the alarm on my phone awoke me, shaking me from my dream. I groaned quietly and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes. I sat there for a moment, the angry red sound piercing into my brain. After a minute, I finally sighed and reached over to grope around for my phone. I almost brushed both it and my polaroid camera off the nightstand, but I caught both at the last moment. I put the camera beside me on the bed and slid my thumb across the screen of my phone, putting it on snooze for another 8 minutes. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed, grateful for the silence. That thing felt like knives in my ears.

I sat up groggily, rubbing my eye and yawning. I picked up my phone again and frowned at the time. 5:30. The sky was still pitch black out my window. I always woke up at this time, but it never really got any easier, even after 3 years. I ran a hand through my messy hair and stretched, bending backwards to crack my back. I threw the blanket back from my legs and turned myself to let them hang off the bed.

"Dirk!" I shouted. "I'm up!" I was  _technically_  supposed to let him help me in the morning, but I had been getting increasingly better at everything, and he never woke up at the same time as me anyway. Doing everything myself was just easier.

I pulled my wheelchair closer to my bed and carefully lowered myself into it, putting my camera in my lap. I readjusted my legs so that they weren't at a weird angle and reached down to unlock my wheels. I wheeled myself from the room into the hallway, stopping by Dirk's room to bang my fist on the door. He was a heavy sleeper, and getting ready took a long time now. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. By the time I got out, Dirk had just stumbled from his room, half-dressed and mumbling to himself. He groaned quietly and shuffled to the bathroom.

"Sleeping beauty," I murmured. I raised my camera to my face and slowly pressed the button with my finger.  _Click_.

Dirk squinted at the flash and swatted feebly at me as I waved the picture in the air. "Stop. It's too early for that."

"Y'know, it doesn't reflect very well on you when the crippled kid can get ready faster than you," I called over my shoulder as I wheeled back to my room.

A lot has changed for Dirk and I since that car accident. It's been about 6 years since it happened, for one. I'm no longer 11 years old, I am now obsessed with photography and take pictures of everyone and everything whenever I can, I'm a junior in high school--what else? Oh yeah. I'm in a wheelchair and I have been for the past 5 years and a half years.

This was our life now: Extra wide doorframes and handicapped parking tags and always looking out for ramps everywhere (which surprisingly, not every place has. What's up with you non-disabled people and making everything with stairs? Do y'all have some kind of vendetta against people who can't walk?); the occasional droll jab to make sure we didn't sink under the sheer pressure of everything again. Dirk's shoulder still sounded like a bag full of sticks being stepped on when he moved it from it not healing right after he shattered it, and I haven't been able to feel anything less than someone actually stabbing my legs for 5 and a half years. It was what it was. I know it might sound harsh and scary, but for me it's just my life now.

And, please, don't start getting all sad and pitying about the fact that I can't walk anymore--I'd gotten enough of that to last a thousand crippled lifetimes. I don't care. Not anymore, at least. I certainly don't prefer this life over one where I can, oh, go up stairs, but it's not like I'm bitter or angry or depressed about it anymore. It's been almost 6 years since the accident and a little less than 5 and a half since I got the wheelchair. At some point, you learn to just suck it up and accept that your legs don't work anymore, and probably won't ever again, and just move on with your life. Feeling sorry for yourself doesn't help anything. Trust me.

But anyways.

By the time Dirk came into the living room, I had already gotten dressed (which even after 6 years is not as easy as it sounds) and eaten a bowl and a half of cereal (which involved getting a bowl from the cabinets, which even after 6 years is not as easy as it sounds). My backpack and my camera sat on my lap and I looked over at Dirk expectantly as he walked in.

"Good morning, princess," I said as he walked over to the messy kitchen counter, searching for his keys. "Did you get enough beauty sleep?"

"Fuck you," Dirk muttered.

"Aw, but you know I can't feel anything from the waist down."

Dirk looked up and frowned at me. I smiled. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Get your crippled ass outside."

"Love you, too, brother dear," I called as I wheeled out the front door. Dirk wasn't annoyed or upset with me or anything, he just really wasn't a morning person. He came out of the house a couple minutes later, keys and a mug of coffee in hand. He came around to my side of the car and opened the door for me while I threw my backpack inside and hoisted myself into the passenger side seat. I dragged my legs under the glove compartment, my breath catching ever so slightly in my throat as I did. Sitting there still made me kinda nervous, even after so long. I waited, fiddling with the radio a bit, as Dirk folded up my wheelchair and put it in the backseat. When he finally got back in, I turned towards him and took another picture of him. He didn't say anything, only smirked softly. As we drove to school, I took a couple more, shaking each one and stashing it in my bag.

I don't know if you're aware, but losing the ability to walk at 11 years old can really fuck with your head. The therapists at the hospital couldn't really find anything to keep me from wanting to rip off my legs, except for the photography I'd tried to get into a couple years before. They suggested it to help me ground myself if I started having flashbacks or anything, and I clung to it. I've been almost compulsively taking pictures of everything and everyone ever since. And I've gotten pretty good, too. They even let me be the official school photographer this year and last year. You get to do a lot more when you're one of fewer than ten crippled kids in the entire school.

Dirk pulled up to the school and put the car in park. He got out and unfolded my wheelchair, then came over to let me out. As he did, I took a picture of him leaning down to move my wheelchair.

"Kid," he said with a quiet laugh. "C'mon."

I reached over and wrapped my arms around his neck. He put his arms under my knees and lifted me out. As he did, his shoulder cracked and I winced ever so slightly. I always did. I hated the way it sounded. It reminded me of the crunching sound of crushed glass.

Dirk lowered me into my wheelchair and stood back to let me readjust myself. Once he had he handed me my bag and camera.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah, but just one more thing." I held up my camera to my face. "Say 'cheese.'"

Dirk rolled his eyes but smiled anyways. I took the picture and stashed it in my bag.

"Nice." I looked up at him and waved. "Bye."

"See you."

I wheeled up onto the curb and into the throng of students flowing into the school. I'd gotten there a little handful of minutes early, so there weren't tons of people, but I still had to clear my throat or say 'excuse me' a couple times when people wouldn't move. I took a few pictures, mostly of tired looking people and one of a couple sitting together on a bench. I got inside, said hi to a couple people, dropped off some photos at the front desk, then went to my locker. That was where my obsession with photography was most evident. For a while, tons of polaroids would fall out whenever I opened it, but now they were all neatly pinned to a bunch of miniature magnetic cork boards. Most of them were, admittedly, of Dirk, but I had a couple of rocks and trees and thing, and a few of my friends. Next to Dirk, John showed up there the most. He was probably the first person I could call my best friend, and he'd really helped me out a lot back when I was still trying to get used to being in a wheelchair.

I pulled out the new pictures I'd taken and after looking over them for a moment, chose the one of him leaning over my wheelchair. I took down an old photo from a few months ago and replaced it with the new one. I looked up at it and smiled a little. Nice. I shoved the rest of my stuff into my locker then continued on my way to my first period class. Nothing too notable happened, at least not at first. Halfway through third period, one of the secretaries from the office came in. She scanned the room before she saw me and smiled.

"Are you Dave Strider?" she asked as she approached.

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

"Nothing bad. We have a new student and we'd like you to show him around for today, since he didn't come in for orientation before. Would that be alright?"

"Yeah. Sure. Of course. No problem."

The secretary smiled graciously. "Thank you so much. None of our other student helpers were here today. His name's Karkat Vantas, and he's waiting for you down at the front office whenever you're ready to go."

I nodded and she turned to leave. I took a moment to collect my things then left the room to go down to the front office. It was mostly empty, as usual, but there was a kid I didn't recognize standing by the front desk. He had his arms crossed defensively and his face was tight and stuck in an adorable little pout, his eyebrows knit together and his mouth scrunched up close to his tiny button nose. Freckles were sprayed across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks, standing out starkly against his cinnamon toned skin. He had fluffy black hair that stuck out in every direction and curled over into his eyes. He was barely half as tall as the trophy bcase he was standing next to. He looked like a little kid, quite frankly. But he had that distinct look of fear that all new kids have, so it had to be him. I started wheeling towards him. He didn't look up until I spoke.

"Hey. Are you Karkat Vantas?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys.
> 
> so!! chapter 1's finally here. sorry it took so long. i made the wonderful decision to start chapter 2 before chapter 1 so i kinda had to rush to get a plot fleshed out and written. but hey!! at least its here now ((thats a terrible excuse im sorry))
> 
> this has made me realize that i should warn you that this fic is for sure going to take a whole lot longer to get up than N.O.R.U. because this one is not prewritten ((at least as of now its not)) so if youve gotten used to 1-2 week intervals, please dont expect that for this fic. ill try my hardest to get it up in as little time as possible, but know that if it takes three weeks or more, thats why.
> 
> anyways.
> 
> chapter 2 should be up in a week or so ((an actual week this time)) because as i said, i have most of it already written. all i need to do is clean up some parts and add a little more to it and itll be fine. so yeah. look forward to that.
> 
> as im writing this ((10/15/15)) N.O.R.U. isnt finished yet, but its very close. im excited for that, but also know that im excited to start this journey, too. should be fun.
> 
> see you next chapter.


	3. Chapter 2

Karkat looked down at the paper in his lap, his eyebrows knit together. He glanced up at the building before him, a looming, impressively massive structure, all sharp corners and dirty grey bricks and a courtyard full of barren skeleton trees, their browning leaves scattered across the low cut grass and the dingy foot paths. Almost nothing like the shiny beautiful campus Kankri had showed him on the school's website. The only thing that told him that the two were the same school was the sign in the yard that read "John Webster Community High School."

 

"Is something wrong?" Kankri asked from beside him. "This was the right address, wasn't it?"

 

Karkat glanced over at his brother then back at his new school. "Yeah, it just... It looks different from I thought. It's... bigger."

 

"The website said there were only a handful of other schools in this area, so they're all fairly large," Kankri said. "If you're feeling too nervous, perhaps we could ask the administration to give another day to--"

 

"No, I'll be alright." Karkat opened his door and stepped out. The pavement beneath his dirty sneakers was wet. It had rained nearly every day of the three weeks they had been there ("Texan winter," their landlord joked to them when they moved in). Karkat slung his backpack over his shoulder, pausing for a moment to rub his arms and pull down his sleeves, shivering in the cold wind. "I can just... I-I'll be fine, don't worry."

 

Kankri nodded. "Alright. If you insist."

 

Karkat held up his hand in a wave. "Bye."

 

"See you."

 

Karkat watched Kankri pull away, a small kernel of apprehension growing in his chest. He looked down at his papers, then back at the school. He sighed and started walking towards the front door.

 

He was somewhat taken aback by the sheer size of the inside of the school as well. Compared to this school, his old one was little more than a box. Students were milling around, looking down at their phones or sitting in corners doing work or chatting with their friends. He clutched his papers closer to his chest, his breathing getting a little shallower, and trudged to the front desk.

 

"H-hi," Karkat said when the secretary noticed him. "Um, I'm K-Karkat Vantas. I'm a new student."

 

The secretary typed something into her computer and nodded when it gave a quiet chime. "Yes. Here you are. Hello, Karkat. Welcome to John Webster. Where are you from?"

 

"New York."

 

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Really. Anywhere near the city?" She looked down at the screen and typed something in. "Excuse me; I'm just trying to pull up your schedule."

 

Karkat smile awkwardly. "Yeah, we were in a little suburb an hour-ish away from the city."

 

She rolled over to the printer nearby and pressed a couple buttons. As it whirred to life, she looked back at Karkat and smiled again. "Sorry. That must've been nice, living so close to everything. How do you like it here in Houston so far?"

 

Karkat shrugged. "It's ok. Really different from my old town. It's a lot bigger."

 

The secretary nodded. The printer whirred loudly and shuddered before it finally stopped and spat out a sheet of paper. She took it and shook it out a little. She picked up something next to the computer and a few more papers, and then handed everything to Karkat. "Well, I hope you have a nice time at John Webster. One of our student helpers will be down in a couple of minutes."

 

Karkat nodded. He stepped a few feet away and leaned back against the wall, rifling through his new things. A small pocket sized school planner, with the school's mascot, a black and green whirlwind, twisting across the front. His schedule, which told him that he was in almost all advanced classes. A paper with all of his student information on it as well as a handwritten message at the bottom that read 'Good luck!' in wide, looping handwriting.

 

Karkat held the things to his chest again. He looked down and sighed softly. As he did, though, the bell rang, loud and piercing, causing him to jump. All the students around him packed up their things and were gone in a flash. Out in the hallway, a sea of students went flowing past the door, a flood of backpacks, loud chatter and tired faces. Just the sheer number of people was alarming to him. It was way, way more than had ever been at the tiny local high school in the tiny school system of the tiny New York City suburb he and Kankri had lived in before.

 

The kernel had started to grow into a knot of fear and anxiety. He didn't know if he was going to be able to do this. He wasn't going to be able to go to this school. It was too big, and he was too small. Too little. Too insignificant. He was going to drown here.

 

He exhaled gently and flipped through his papers again, scanning over the text. The paper with it said his name, his new address, Kankri's name, as well as his counselor's name. To the right of that, in handwritten text, it said "Shadow: Dave Strider."

 

Karkat froze. Oh no. Oh hell no. Not this asshole. Terezi had told him about Dave back in New York. Her cousin had come up to visit her and told all three of them all kinds of stories about him and how cool he was, how incredible he was, how awesome. Both Sollux and Terezi had been infatuated with him that entire week, and it had annoyed the hell out of Karkat. Ever since then, he'd had something of a grudge against Dave for stealing his friends away from him, even if he'd never met him. And the way Terezi's cousin had described him, he just seemed aloof and full of himself, almost cocky; exactly the kind of person Karkat hated.

 

Karkat scoffed quietly. Great. Now he was stuck with him for an entire day. Karkat furrowed his eyebrows and set his eyes to the door. Fine. If he was gonna have to deal with this fuckface for the entire day, he wasn't going to back down. Someone had to finally put this fucker in his place. As soon as he came sauntering through the door, Karkat was going to tear him a new one.

 

Except.

 

"Hey. Are you Karkat Vantas?"

 

Karkat looked down at the person before him. And when he said down, he meant _down_ , at least 4 or 5 inches down.

 

This was Dave, alright. Karkat recognized his curly blond undercut and his tan, freckled skin and his thin lanky form and the pair of aviators perched on his forehead. It was who Latula had described.

 

Except.

 

When Karkat nodded, Dave smiled a little and held out his hand. "Great. I'm Dave. I'm supposed to show you around. C'mon." Dave turned around and wheeled towards the door to the hallway.

 

Latula had never mentioned Dave being in a wheelchair. In fact, she hadn't even ever mentioned anything about his ability to walk. All she'd ever talked about was how Dave Strider had died at least five times but each time he came back, or how Dave Strider had once talked his way out of being expelled for bringing a katana to school, or how Dave Strider had supposedly become best friends with the mayor of Houston. She'd never even implied that he couldn't even walk.

 

Karkat was still frozen in spot from surprise, while Dave was already halfway to the door. When he noticed that Karkat wasn't following him, he turned back and quirked an eyebrow. "You coming?"

 

"Huh?" Karkat asked, being shaken from his confusion. "Oh, uh... yeah. S-sorry."

 

They went out into the hallway, which was deserted now that the next period had begun. Even the hallways themselves were at least twice the width of the ones at his old school.

 

God he was so screwed.

 

"Ok. So." Dave looked back at Karkat. "This is John Webster High School. Welcome. I'm supposed to say that. I'm also supposed to tell a bunch of shit about how our school's this many years old and how it ranks umpteenth among all the high schools in Houston and how x celebrity and y senator went here to make you feel all warm and fuzzy for ending up going here, but that's stupid, quite frankly. And I've forgotten half of it since orientation anyways. So we're gonna skip that and go straight to the part where I show you around, even though you'll end up forgetting where everything is anyway, while I try and ultimately fail at trying to seem bubbly and social. Ok? Ok." He turned towards the vast and empty hallway before them. "This is... a hallway. It's called hall A. There are a handful of other hallways, each one with a letter from A through M, excluding I. Fuck I. I's a piece of shit. But anyway. It's kind of important that you keep track of which hallway's which, because as you can probably see, this school is pretty fucking big and it's really easy to get lost." Dave pointed to their left. "Down there's the cafeteria--" He jerked his thumb in the other direction "--and down there is one of our gyms. We have two." He looked back up at Karkat. "Any questions so far?"

 

"Uh." Karkat looked around. "Not... No."

 

"Alright. Great. Let's move on then."

 

Karkat walked half a step behind Dave, still mostly bewildered by the whole... situation. What about the Dave Strider everyone told stories about? Was he still real? Had he ever existed? What had happened since then?

 

"So, where did you say you were from?" Dave asked.

 

"New York," Karkat replied.

 

"NY. Nice state. Anywhere near the Apple?"

 

Karkat shrugged. "Yeah, kind of. It was like an hour away. But my old town wasn't actually that big."

 

Dave nodded. "Mmm. How you liking Houston so far?"

 

"It's big."

 

"Anything else?"

 

"It rains a lot."

 

Dave chucked lightly. "Well, you're not wrong. Just wait until you see the horses." He grabbed his wheels, stopping. "Over here's hall H, the science hall. If any of your classes start with that, they're over here. Oh, and the number after the letter tells you which floor the room is on, which is kinda important 'cause there are three, and H135 is way different from H335."

 

Karkat nodded and looked around. "Where are the stairs?"

 

Dave just stared up at Karkat. He looked down slowly then back up. "I dunno," he said with a shrug.

 

Karkat furrowed his eyebrows and started to open his mouth when suddenly he remembered and he started, turning bright red.

 

"Shit," he said, slapping his hand over his mouth. "Shit. Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't-- I forgot, I didn't mean to--"

 

"It's fine, don't worry about," Dave said, waving it off. "Happens more often than you'd think. Sorta begs the question why they'd even let a crippled kid show an abled kid around." He turned himself around. "C'mon."

 

"So, what grade are you in?" Dave asked as they went down the hall.

 

"Tenth."

 

"A sophomore." Dave smiled. "Nice. I'm a junior myself. How were your grades back where you're from?"

 

"Mostly A's. A couple B's last year."

 

Dave nodded. "Good, good. Contrary to popular belief, people actually care about grades here. The smart kids are usually the popular ones. Keep it up. You've got a, let's say, _choice_ two years ahead of you." As he went, he looked over and gestured to the passing doors and lockers. "Another hallway. Hall E. Some lockers. Classrooms. Down there's hall C. A trash can. All very impressive and _very_ indicative of John Webster's _prestigious_ academic standards, I'm sure. But..." Dave rolled to a stop outside of a classroom. "None of that really matters. Not to you, anyways. Here, let me see your schedule."

 

Karkat handed him the paper with his schedule on it. Dave took it and looked it over for a moment. He touched it several times, all the while muttering to himself and vaguely waving around one of his hands.

 

This was all still so weird. This Dave was nothing at all like Latula's Dave. This Dave was likable and funny and he even seemed like someone Karkat could be friends with. Where was Latula's version? Was he even real?

 

"You can ask, y'know," Dave said, still looking at the paper.

 

"Huh?"

 

"About the chair. Everyone asks eventually. I don't mind." Dave cut his eyes towards Karkat and grinned. "I saw the surprise on your face when I came in. And your face has been stuck in that cute little frown since I met you."

 

Karkat's face erupted in flames. "What do you--!" He curled his hands into fists, embarrassment curling up his spine. "Cute? What--" He scoffed and crossed his arms defensively. "I-I was just... I was expecting someone else, that's all."

 

Dave quirked an eyebrow. "Someone who could walk?"

 

"No! Just--" Karkat faltered and scoffed again, looking towards the ground, his cheeks ablaze. "S-shut up."

 

Dave chuckled softly. "You're cute when you're angry. Here." He handed Karkat back his schedule. "Most of your classes are on the second floor. Lucky for you, so are mine. You can walk to my next class with me."

 

"What if I don't want to?" Karkat snapped.

 

Dave shrugged. "I mean, you don't _have_ to. You can certainly find your own way to a class you don't know in a school building you've never been in before. I don't care. Whatever floats your boat." Just then, the bell rang again, making Karkat jump. Dave smirked and turned himself around. "Better make up your mind quickly," Dave called as he wheeled himself in the other direction. "Passing period's only 5 minutes."

 

Karkat looked back and forth, people pouring from the doors on either side of him. Fear lurched in his chest and he looked back for Dave. He was already halfway down the hallway. Karkat looked down at his crumpled schedule and let out a sharp exhale before he started after Dave.

 

When he saw Karkat again, he grinned. "Well, hello there. Long time no see. I see you've made up your mind?"

 

Karkat huffed and looked down. "Shut up."

 

Dave smirked, but didn't say anything else. They kept going in silence, Dave gliding along with ease at an unusually fast pace while Karkat struggled to keep up with him in all the tumult around him. A ways down the hallway, Dave stopped and looked up at Karkat.

 

"Looks like the buck stops here," he said, wheeling up to the door. He pointed at a classroom a couple doors down. "There's your class. See ya." With that, Dave was gone and Karkat was left alone in the rapidly emptying hallway. He watched him go, gripping his papers in tight fists. He glanced over at the door to his  classroom, already half full of students, all intimidatingly unfamiliar. He suddenly felt scared and exposed without Dave there, annoying as the kid was. But he didn't have a choice. He walked into the classroom.

 

Karkat didn't see Dave again for the next three periods, which consisted of him getting lost twice and going to the right classroom but on the wrong floor four times. He was starting to get why the passing periods were a full minute longer than at his old school.

 

As the bell rang for sixth period, Karkat looked down at his schedule. Lunch. He furrowed his eyebrows. Yeah. Ok. He could get to lunch, couldn't he? That Dave kid had pointed out the cafeteria, hadn't he? Karkat took the nearest staircase to the first floor and started down the hallway. Then stopped and turned around. Then looked down at his schedule and the grainy, blurry piece of shit map of the school they'd given him. He thought he say the word “cafeteria” on one of the nearby rooms, but he couldn't see what hallway it was it. Fuck. He looked at his phone. And he only had two minutes to get there. Fuck.

 

“Ohhh, well if it isn't the new kid again.”

 

Fuck.

 

Karkat sighed sharply and rolled his eyes. “What do you want, asshole?”

 

Dave held up his hands innocently. “Hey, man, I wasn't going to do anything. _I_ just wanted to exercise all of my power as a student helper and try and help you figure out where the cafeteria is. But...” Dave looked away and held his hand to his chest, a look of fake hurt on his face. “If you want to wander around the empty halls for perhaps hours on end, lost, confused, and hungry, with no idea where to go, then I suppose I cannot force you to follow me.” He looked over and grinned when he saw the look of bewilderment on Karkat's face. “We have the same lunch period. I checked.”

 

Karkat looked down, his cheeks tingling dully. “Fine.”

 

Dave gave a firm nod then waved Karkat in the other direction. “Cool. Well for one, you're on the complete other side of the school than the cafeteria’s on. It's on the west side.”

 

“West side...?” Karkat murmured to himself.

 

Dave chuckled softly. “Oh, you're in for a choice first couple weeks. Just follow me.”

 

Karkat followed Dave through the now mostly empty halls towards the cafeteria. They went in silence for a while.

 

“How tall are you?” Dave asked suddenly, halfway down the seemingly endless hallway.

 

“What?”

 

“How tall are you. How many feet away from the ground is your head.”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

Dave shrugged. “Just curious.”

 

Karkat scoffed at him and rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

 

“I'm five eleven, in case you were wondering,” Dave continued after a beat of silence.

 

Karkat looked him up and down and scowled.

 

“Well, fine, I'm _supposed_ to be five eleven, but y’know, the whole being in a wheelchair thing kinda makes me a little shorter.”

 

Karkat quirked an eyebrow. “Just a little?”

 

Dave nodded. “Just a little.”

 

Karkat looked down at him, then sighed sharply. “F... five one. And a half.”

 

“Five _one_?” Dave asked incredulously.

 

“Yes, that's what I said. Five one,” Karkat snapped. “And a half. Wh-- what's it to you?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes! Why wouldn't I know how tall I am? And why does it matter anyways?”

 

“Are you positive you're not lying? Because you kinda look like you're five foot.”

 

“I'm not,” Karkat growled, crossing his arms and pouting. “I'm five one. And a half.”

 

Dave smirked. “Suuure you are. And you're how old? 15?”

 

“I'm _16_ ,” Karkat said tightly. “And I've been this tall since I was 12. Why. Does it. Matter.”

 

Dave shrugged. “No reason, really. I just wanted to see how hard it'd be for me to kiss you later on.”

 

Karkat stopped in his tracks, his cheeks flaming bright red. “Wh-what?”

 

“It's kinda hard to kiss someone when you're barely 4’ 7”,” Dave said, turning around to face him. “Shorter people are much easier to kiss.” Dave looked Karkat up and down and grinned. “You shouldn't be much trouble.”

 

Karkat’s cheeks burned and he scoffed. “I've barely even know you for four hours!”

 

“I never said I was gonna kiss you _now_ , did I?” Dave said, raising his eyebrows. “You'll just have to be on the lookout for one of my luscious Texan lip locks.” He turned himself back around and continued down the hallway. “You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna come to lunch? You don't wanna make us late.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes and sighed sharply, then started after Dave. “How can you be late to lunch?” he muttered.

 

“You tell me, _mon cherie._ ”

 

Karkat frowned at Dave and crossed his arms. “Don't call me that.”

 

“No can do, my man. All my friends get nicknames. What would you prefer? Karkitty? Or KK, y'know, keep it simple? Ooh, or maybe KitKat. That's pretty g--”

 

“You are _not_ calling me KitKat if you want to keep your head,” Karkat growled.

 

“Well then, what do you want me to call you?”

 

“You could try my _name_ , that's always an op-- Wait, did you just call me your friend?”

 

Dave shrugged. “Well, I figured since this is the typical ‘new kid ends up hangin’ around the popular squad and is inevitably and automatically incorporated into the friend group’ scenario, I'd just go ahead and skip all the formalities and give you a cool underground nickname for me to call you for the rest of high school. Oh, and speaking of, say ‘cheese.’”

 

Karkat looked over and started to open his mouth to ask what he meant by ‘say cheese,’ but before he could, Dave had whipped out this old polaroid camera and snapped a picture of him, the flash blinding him for a second. He flinched and rubbed his eyes as the camera whirred and spit out a black square.

 

“Nice,” Dave murmured after giving it a shake and examining it. To Karkat, he said, “You're cute when you're confused.”

 

“What?” he stammered, taken aback and half blind. “Did you just take a _picture_ of me?”

 

“Yeah. It actually turned out pretty good, even though--”

 

“Look,” Karkat snapped suddenly, whipping around and facing Dave. “I don't know if this is all some kind of game for you, to make the new kid as annoyed as possible in as short as possible, but where I'm from you don't just meet someone 4 hours ago and suddenly you guys are all buddy buddy.” He grabbed Dave's arm rests and leaned in close, narrowing his eyes. “We. Are. Not. Fucking. Friends. Leave me the fuck alone.”

 

Dave stared at Karkat for moment, finally something besides a self-righteous smirk on his face. He looked down and sighed softly. “Fine. Since you insist.” He pushed Karkat away from him and started to wheel himself away towards the other side of the cafeteria.

 

Part of Karkat was relieved, but not 30 seconds later he realized what he had done and suddenly stumbled after Dave. “Wait.”

 

“What?” Dave said over his shoulder. “I'm doing what you asked. I'm leaving you the fuck alone, since we're apparently ‘not-friends.’”

 

“But I don't...” Karkat hesitated, embarrassment turning his ears pink. “I don't know where to sit.”

 

“Well, _I'm_ going to sit with my friends. I don't know where you're gonna sit. I _would_ invite you over, but since we're ‘not-friends’ I can't.” Dave looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Unless...”

 

Karkat sighed heavily. “God, you're fucking ridiculous. Fine. We're ‘friends,’” he said flatly, adding air quotes around ‘friends.’

 

Dave smiled his usual disgustingly annoying grin. “Great. I've been needing another short friend to complete the set. C'mon, KitKat. They're gonna love you.”

 

Karkat opened his mouth to protest, then gave up and followed Dave. This was going to be a long year.

 

When the two approached the table, already full of kids laughing and chatting together, the familiar feeling of anxiety fizzled dully in his chest, pushing all his anger and annoyance from his mind. Before he could react, one of the girls at the table, a little Asian girl with two messy pigtails in a raggedy blue beanie and a cleft lip, stood up and pointed at Karkat, leaning across half of the table in the process.

 

“Who's that?” she shouted excitedly, wiggling a bit back and forth.

 

“Why, I'm glad you asked, Nepeta,” Dave replied, seemingly unfazed by her overenthusiasm. He slid his arm around Karkat's waist. “This here is Karkat. He's new. Be nice to him, he's one of the cute ones.”

 

“Wh--” Karkat's cheeks blazed red and he pulled away from Dave a bit.

 

“Kar _kat_?” Nepeta breathed, her olive eyes widening. She turned to Karkat and grinned widely. “Hi! I'm Nepeta. I like cats. Your name's so cool!”

 

“I... uh... H-hi,” Karkat said awkwardly. “That's, uh... cool...”

 

“I'm gonna call you Karkitty,” she whispered, sitting back down slowly and drumming her fingertips on the tabletop.

 

“What?”

 

“Nepeta,” the bullishly muscular native American guy with long jet black hair and a pair of seemingly shattered glasses said cautiously, gently placing his hand on the girl’s arm. “Have some tact.”

 

“I can't pass up an opportunity like _this_ , Eq,” Nepeta said incredulously. “He's got ‘cat’ in his name. I _have_ to.”

 

The boy frowned, but didn't say anything more. To Karkat he said, “Sorry about... her. She's just... excitable. My name is Equius, by the way. I'm a junior and Nepeta’s a sophomore.”

 

“Sophomore!” Nepeta shouted around a mouthful of the sandwich she was eating.

 

“Oh, um, cool. I'm a sophomore, too. And don't worry about the name thing, i-it's ok--” Karkat started to say.

 

“Hey. New kid.”

 

Karkat looked over at the source of the voice. It was another girl, leaning lazily on the table. She had long black and blue streaked hair past her shoulders with equally lengthy bangs hanging over her eyes. She had on big square lens glasses with one side blacked out for some reason. She squinted her eyes at him and tugged the corner of her mouth into a smug grin. “Name's Vriska. Where you from?”

 

“Uh... N-new York.”

 

She nodded. “Nice. Big Apple. Were you into any gangs or shit back up there?”

 

“I... What?”

 

“Vris, c'mon,” Dave chimed in from beside him. “He's only been here a day. Like he would tell you shit like that.”

 

Vriska held up her hands defensively, the edge of her left sleeve slipping down and exposing what looked like a chrome plated wrist. “Hey, hey, I mean no harm. I just wanna know what color bandana I shouldn't wear around you.”

 

Karkat paled a bit. “I-I wasn't in any--”

 

“Ah, it's fine,” she interrupted, waving him off. “Let ‘em get me. I'm already almost all ‘right’, anyways. What else have I got to lose?”

 

“Uh...”

 

“Hey, are Gam and Fef and John here?” Dave asked. “I haven't seen them today.”

 

“Yes,” Vriska said, leaning on her hand, “unfortunately for us all. Gam’s shooting up with his stoner friends and Mermaid Girl's off trying her very hardest to become a literal fish. I think Windy Boy’s in the band room.”

 

Dave nodded. “Sounds about right. Feferi and Gamzee are my other friends, by the way,” he explained to Karkat, “And John too. They're all pretty cool. You'll meet ‘em eventually. But other than that, this is my merry little band of misfits. Told ya it was like a bad high school drama.” He wheeled over to the table between Equius and Vriska and smiled. “So what do you think? You gonna hang with us or what?”

 

“Uh.” Karkat looked around, his cheeks burning dully. “S-sure... I guess.”

 

Dave grinned widely. “Great. Well, go ahead and pop a squat, then. We want to get to know you.”

 

Karkat sat next to Nepeta, opposite Dave, as they all bombarded him with questions about where exactly in New York did he live and how far away from the city was it and what it was like there and how many gangs he was in the entire time he was there (courtesy of Vriska again). Karkat answered as best as he could, but most of his replies ended up just being short one or two word answers. He got kind of shy when he was around a lot of people he didn't know. By the time the bell rang signaling the end of lunch, Karkat was all but spent from trying to keep up with the constantly shifting conversation. He'd never really had more than two friends at a time. How did Dave do this?

 

“So,” Dave said as everyone else packed up and left the cafeteria. “You gonna find your way to your next period or do you need Mommy to walk you there, too?”

 

“Shut up,” Karkat grumbled. “I'm fine. I know where I'm going now.”

 

“Are you positive? I'm pretty sure you said that about lunch, too.”

 

Karkat looked down at Dave and scowled. “Fuck you.”

 

“Ooo, bold aren't we? At least buy me dinner first.”

 

Karkat scoffed sharply and started walking faster, leaving Dave behind. “Unbelievable.”

 

“So is that a yes to dinner?” Dave shouted down the hall.

 

“Leave me _alone_ ,” Karkat shouted back.

 

Karkat didn't talk to Dave again for the rest of the day. He got to his last few periods alright, and he felt he was finally starting to make the beginnings of a map of the school in his head. But the one thing that persisted in his mind was Dave, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He was just so much unlike whatever caricature of Dave he'd had in his head before. This real Dave was annoying, there was no doubt about it, but he wasn't the asshole as he'd thought him to be before. And he was... _cute_. Karkat felt stupid admitting it, but it was true. Latula hadn't really described Dave's face very well, so he hadn't know what to expect.

 

At the end of the day, Karkat fought his way through the crowded halls, trying to find the stairs to stairs down to the front of the school. Once he finally found them, he sighed in relief. He looked around, and then frowned deeply when he spotted Dave. He was going into one of the elevators and happened to look up as Karkat was watching him. He grinned when he recognized Karkat and held up his hand and wiggled the tips of his fingers in a smug little wave. Karkat growled softly under his breathe and rolled his eyes. He started off down the stairs, and not two seconds after he stepped on to the floor, he heard Dave wheel up to him.

 

“Heyyy, if it isn't my favorite person,” Dave drawled.

 

“What do you want?” Karkat said flatly.

 

“Oh, nothin’. Just wanted to say hi to my _best friend_ ,” Dave replied, nudging his elbow against Karkat's thigh.

 

“I have literally known you for a _day_ ,” Karkat said through gritted teeth.

 

“And? You think a day's not long enough for me to call you my best friend?”

 

“No. It's not.” Under his breath, he mumbled, “You hardly even know me.”

 

“I guess so. But y’know, I think I'd get to know you a little better if I got to talk to you outside of school.”

 

“Fuck, no. I am not hangin out with you,” Karkat said, walking a little faster.

 

“Well, we don't have to ‘hang out,’ per se. You've got a phone, right?”

 

Karkat stopped in his tracks and looked sharply at Dave. The other boy simply smiled at him, quirking one of his eyebrows.

 

“Well don't you?” Dave asked.

 

Karkat said nothing, his cheeks suddenly on fire. “M-my brother's waiting for me,” he stammered after a moment. He walked out of the school to the courtyard, not waiting for Dave. He walked to Kankri's car with his head down and got in, his entire face burning the longer he thought about it. He let out a sharp exasperated sigh.

 

“Everything ok?”

 

Karkat looked up to find Cronus looking at him in the rear view mirror, one of his eyebrows raised.

 

“Yeah,” Karkat said, sitting back. “I'm just...” He hesitated and then shook his head. “Something else.”

 

“If you say so.” Cronus reached over and put the car into drive. “How was school?”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes, bringing his legs up to sit cross legged. “Long.”

 

“Mmmm. Do you... wanna talk about anything?”

 

“No.” He knew what Cronus was trying to do. “Not now. Sorry.”

 

“It's ok.” A short, somewhat uneasy silence hung between them. “Kankri's at home,” Cronus said after a moment. “In case you were wondering.”

 

“Cool.”

 

Cronus remained quiet for the rest of the ride home. Karkat leaned his head against the window, watching streets and houses he barely knew roll past. This was all still so... new to him. He wasn’t sure he liked any of it very much yet.

  
Karkat closed his eyes and sighed. This was going to be a long couple of years.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.
> 
> so.
> 
> sorry. that it took me like 20 days to update this. i am so so sorry. i was ((as i keep saying)) distracted with a couple other things ((like other fics and school and personal stuff and school))
> 
> i want to say that chapter 3 wont take as long, but. ive been taught not to lie. so. it will probably take at least two weeks again. sorry. im not so good at coming up with stories on the fly like this. but ill at least try((???)) to make it good in return.
> 
> hope u like it, anyways!! i worked hard on this ((which is why it came out as being over 3500 words i mean cmon man thats fucking ridiculous)) leave comments about what you liked or what i might have fucked up ((im not in a wheelchair i have no idea what its like im not in a wheelchair i have no idea what its like im not in a)) or what you have questions about. thanks.
> 
> see you next chapter.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gettin real tired of this "chapter 4: chapter 3" bullshit ngl

“You gotta meet this kid, man. He’s fucking ridiculous.”

 

“And who is he again?” John asked, his voice sounding flat and slightly grainy from my phone’s speakers as we FaceTimed. “I didn’t see him today. I had to work on some stuff with Mr. H during lunch.”

 

“He’s just this new kid, I guess,” I said as I rolled up to the fridge. I propped it open on the back of my chair and stretched up to get the apple juice. “But he’s, like, amazing.”

 

“Wow. ‘Amazing.’ Sounds like a real compliment, coming from you. What, are you, like, in love with him or something?”

 

“Maybe,” I said, picking up my phone so I could wiggle my eyebrows at John.

 

John smirked ever so slightly, his brilliantly blue eyes crinkling a bit at the edges. “What’s so ‘amazing’ about him, then?”

 

“Well, for one, he’s like barely five feet and he’s 16,” I said, pouring myself a cup of juice and starting to wheel back to my room. “I’ve never met anyone that short and that old who wasn’t in a wheelchair or something.”

 

“Woah, really?” John chuckled lightly. “Five foot?”

 

“Yeah. He’s tiny. He kept trying to convince me he was five one, but he’s a dirty fucking liar.” I paused to push open my bedroom door. “And he gets so angry about the smallest things. It’s hilarious.”

 

“Sounds like just your type,” John said from my lap.

 

“Yeah,” I said as I hoisted myself up onto my bed. “And he’s kinda cute, too.”

 

John snorted softly. “ _Now_ who sounds like a twelve year old girl?”

 

“Shut up. At least Karkat’s actually cute. Unlike Vriska.”

 

“Ok, that was freshman year. Can’t you just shut up about that already?” John looked down, his cheeks turning bright red.

 

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t stop talking about her until last year.” I sat back, putting my phone on my chest. “And even now I can see the way you still look at her.”

 

John sighed, but didn’t say anything else. “So what else about this Karkat kid’s so amazing?”

 

“Well, he’s tiny.”

 

“Yeah, we already covered that.”

 

“And he’s, like...” I shook my head. “I don’t even know, man. Just... everything about him’s so, like, tiny and adorable. Like, he’s got perhaps the smallest and cutest nose in the world. And his eyes, for some reason, are fucking _huge_ and they’re really round and pretty and he’s got these ridiculously long eyelashes--he almost looks like a girl--and his eyes themselves are this, like, nice, reddish-auburn wine color, and they’re so pretty--”

 

“Dave.”

 

“--which, I know is kinda weird to hear coming from me, but it’s all totally true. Oh, a-and he’s got a whole bunch of freckles across his nose, like, not as many as me, no way, but I swear to god, they’re all so fucking cute and I don’t even know _why_ \--”

 

“ _Dave_.”

 

“--And he blushes, like, really, really easily, probably more than you, if that’s even possible, and every time I tease him he gets this frozen, shocked look on his face, and he like freezes up and it’s just so hilarious I can’t even--”

 

“ _Dave!_ ”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you done rambling about your future husband?” John asked with a chuckle. “You’ve been ranting about him for, like, the past 5 minutes.”

 

“H-have I?” I mumbled, my cheeks burning dully.

 

“Yeah. I’m not judging you, but at least tell me you’re gonna tell him how much you like him.”

 

“Oh. Y-yeah, totally,” I said, looking over at the wall.

 

John knit his eyebrows together. “Dave.”

 

I kept my gaze towards the wall, my neck starting to tingle.

 

“Dave, I can tell when you’re lying.”

 

“I’m not lying!” I said quickly. “I just... I-I need to make sure he... likes me too first.”

 

John snorted softly. “Really? You, of all people, getting all shy and nervous over a kid you like?”

 

“Shut up,” I muttered, taking a sip of my juice. “I just... I don’t even know if I really even like him. Maybe he’s just another one of my little obsessions. I don’t know.”

 

“Well, I think you should go for it,” John offered. “He seems pretty cool. And it seems like you really like him.”

 

“I guess...” I lay back on my bed and sighed softly. “I don’t know.”

 

“Stop saying that. Listen, don’t go anywhere. I’m coming over and we’re gonna sort this out.”

 

“Nah, don’t,” I said, sitting up again and picking up my phone. “I gotta go to the doctor tonight. You’d just be leaving as soon as you get here.”

 

“What’re you doing there? Is something up?”

 

“No. It’s just a routine checkup or whatever,” I said, drinking the rest of my juice and setting the cup on my night stand. “They’re gonna look at my legs and see whether or not I can walk.”

 

“Wait, but aren’t you--”

 

I looked at John and quirked an eyebrow as I sat down in my wheelchair.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. Kinda pointless, but you never know.” I wheeled out into the living room. “It’s been a few months, maybe this time they’ll work.”

 

John laughed, a soft, giggly, almost childlike sound. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” I said, the corner of my mouth lifting into a half smile despite myself. “I try my best.”

 

“Well, have fun finding out you still can’t walk.”

 

“Thanks. See you later.”

 

“Bye.”

 

John hung up the FaceTime call and I slid my phone into my pocket. Almost as soon as I got there, Dirk walked in as well.

 

“Oh, I see you’re finally done jerking off?” He said casually, stepping past me to open the fridge.

 

“Bullshit. You know my dick doesn’t work,” I said.

 

Dirk shrugged, cracking open a can of soda. “Who knows? Maybe you like it in the ass, too. Or maybe it’s some kind of complicated nipple thing.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Well, it’s not. I wasn’t doing anything.”

 

Dirk quirked an eyebrow and smirked behind his soda can.“You sure? I heard the way you were talking about that kid, that Car Cart or whatever.”

 

“It’s Karkat, and why were you even eavesdropping on me in the first place?”

 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was being the doting parental figure I’m supposed to be, and I just so happened to overhear it. Your voice is not soft.” Dirk leaned against the counter, his shoulder crackling as he did. “But I agree with John. I think you should tell him. I bet you two would be cute together.”

 

“First of all, listening to someone else’s conversation without their knowledge _is_ eavesdropping. Second of all, fuck you. And third of all, I literally just met him today. I’m not even 100% sure he’s gay.”

 

“One:,” Dirk said, holding up his finger, “I’m your legal guardian, so I’m allowed to eavesdrop on you to a certain degree before it’s creepy. Two: I didn’t think you were into incest. Third: the way you described him, he seems pretty fuckin’ gay.”

 

“So did John ’I’m Not a Homosexual’ Egbert, and look where that went,” I muttered.

 

“In both of your defenses, two horny, sexually confused 13-year-olds, one of whom was freshly disabled and low-key suicidal while the other was very aggressively denying his own sexuality, do not a good relationship make.” Dirk took another sip of his soda. “Don’t let that deter you from doing anything.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “I just... I don’t know. I might. I’m not sure.”

 

“You should.” Dirk crunched his now empty can flat against the counter with his hand. “All these weird, like, one night stand-ish flings you’ve been having for the past like three years are bad and unsettling and as your quote-unquote ’dad’ I feel the need to urge you to pursue a long-term relationship.” Dirk walked over to his bag and picked it up along with the car keys. “Get your stuff, we’re going.”

 

“You don’t know me,” I said as I followed Dirk to the car. “I could have an entire harem of scrawny little gay boys who felt bad that I’m disabled _and_ gay. Does that count as a ’long term relationship?’”

 

Dirk paused for a moment, thinking. “...Yes. But only if I can meet them all, and you can prove that they’re all yours.”

 

“Do used condoms count as proof? ’Cause that’s about all I have.”

 

“Well, that depends. Whose jizz is in ’em? Front seat or back?”

 

“Front, and if I say it’s mine, will you leave it alone?”

 

“Sure,” Dirk said. “So long as my little bro’s not a bottom.”

 

“Well then,” I said, grunting as I hoisted myself into the passenger seat. “Have I got news for you, my man.”

 

Dirk shook his head, picking up my wheelchair and folding it up and putting it in the back. “What a disgrace. I ought to take you back to the orphanage.”

 

“You can’t. You’re past the 30-day return limit. You’d have to bring in your receipt.”

 

“Damn,” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat. “I shoulda taken you back when I had the chance.”

 

“Even though I didn’t come from an orphanage?”

 

“Yes. I would have taken you back somewhere. Gone back to the dirty Austin alleyway I found you in and left you in a cardboard box with a letter pinned to your sleeve,” he said as he pulled out of the driveway. “Surely some homeless coke addict would have taken you in, shown you the ways of a vagabond.”

 

“What about selling me into child slavery? That’s an economy that could always use a boost. Plus you woulda gotten a little money, too.”

 

“You make a valid point.” Dirk looked over and me and shrugged. “But I think I missed my window. You’re a little overdone now. I’m not sure there’s much of a market for crippled 16-year-olds, even among the kinkiest of circles.”

 

“You never know,” I said, sitting back and shrugging. “Some people are into some weird shit. Surely there’s at least one middle aged sex freak who’s looking to get a nice young sex slave to settle down with for the remainder of their perpetually-kink-shamed life.”

 

“What about your harem of twinks? What will become of them once you go off and become kinky Donald Trump’s live-in boy toy?”

 

“Ahh, they’ll be fine,” I said, waving it off as Dirk pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. “Surely they can hold some kind of sexy Battle Royale-esque orgy amongst themselves to determine my successor. Shouldn’t be too hard for them. My money’s on Egbert.”

 

“Ah, so _he’s_ in the harem, too,” Dirk said, pulling into a parking spot and turning the car off.

 

“Of course. He was the first one.”

 

“So is he your favorite?” Dirk asked as he unfolded my wheelchair.

 

“Nah. He’s only in like my top five. Favorite’s probably this kid Andrew. Way into horses, kind of orange for some reason. You wouldn’t know him. But his ass?” I clicked my tongue. “A+.”

 

“Great to know you value him for his personality,” Dirk said flatly as he picked me up.

 

“Who ever said I didn’t? I mean, he’s... probably a nice person. Maybe. He would be better if he didn’t fucking love horses so much. It’s fucking weird.”

 

“Stop being mean,” Dirk said as he lowered me into my wheelchair.

 

“I’m not. Horses are weird animals. Have you ever seen a horse? Looks fuckin’ weird. Plus, if you break one of its legs, you have to shoot it. That’s fucking weird. If I was a horse, I’d be long dead by now.”

 

“If only,” Dirk muttered, slamming the car door shut and starting towards the office building.

 

“I heard that. That’s no way to talk to a crippled kid,” I said, rolling after him. “I almost died once. I might find that triggering.”

 

“Except I know that you don’t.”

 

I stuck my tongue out at Dirk, but didn’t say anything else. I looked up at the shiny, mirror plated windows of my physical therapist’s office. I didn’t really mind coming here very much. I didn’t really mind most hospitals or hospital related places. Mostly because they always had ramps, but also because most of my doctors were pretty chill and the nurses put up with me. But there were still a handful of things there that would give me flashbacks if I wasn’t careful, so I was still guarded as we entered the building.

 

When we got inside, Dr. Scratch was still working with another patient, so we had to wait in the waiting room for a bit. It was half full of people, all with varying degrees of disability. A couple people had crutches or walkers or braces, but I was the only person in a wheelchair. At one point, someone walked in with their arm in a sling and once they saw me, spent a good 30 seconds looking from my face to my legs and back. I waved the tips of my fingers at them, and they turned pink. They sat down just as a nurse came out and called my name.

 

“This is what happens when you don’t exercise,” I said to them as I followed the nurse to the examination rooms.

 

“Dave,” Dirk said warningly.

 

“What? It’s true. I wasn’t exercising that much before it happened and now look.” I looked up at the nurse. “I'm crippled forever. Right?”

 

The nurse’s ears turned a little pink. “That’s not necessarily--”

 

“See? Direct correlation.” I shrugged. “I’m only spreading the truth.”

 

“Sorry,” Dirk said the nurse. “He's... like this. All the time.”

 

“Hey, _I_ am only regurgitating what people have told me over the years,” I said as I got up on the exam table. “Someone said I should have exercised more. Maybe she was right.”

 

“She wasn't,” the nurse said flatly as she took my temperature and blood pressure.

 

“She _wasn't_? Aw, shit. Well, looks like we gotta find that bleached blond, quinoa-munching yoga freak again and set her straight, then. Wouldn't want her lying to any more crippled kids.”

 

The nurse frowned a little, but didn't say anything. When she left, she almost seemed to glare at me.

 

“I think she liked me,” I said to Dirk once she'd all but slammed the door.

 

“Do you always have to be this difficult?”

 

“Yes,” I said, moving my legs over so that I could lie down. “It's who I am. I'm either gonna be nice to people or I'm gonna be disabled. You can't have both.”

 

“That's a lie.”

 

“Is it, though?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Was I this much of a little shit when I could walk? I don't think I was. I'm putting too much of my energy now into not being able to walk to try and be polite.”

 

“Y'know, one day someone's gotta get offended by something you say,” Dirk said wearily. “And they're gonna get mad at you.”

 

I shrugged. “Today doesn't seem to be that day.”

 

Dirk frowned at me, and as he did, Dr. Scratch came in, clad in his usual mint green lab coat and rainbow eight ball tie.

 

“Give it to me straight, doc,” I said. “Will I ever walk again?”

 

“It's nice to see you, too, David,” Dr. Scratch muttered as he pulled out his laptop and set down the files he was carrying. “How have you been?”

 

“Well, I haven't been able to really walk lately. Oh, and for some reason I can't feel my legs. Should I be worried?”

 

Dr. Scratch looked at me and frowned a little. To Dirk, he asked, “What were you coming in for again? Was it a checkup or something else? I seem to recall you had an x-ray scheduled some time soon.”

 

“I think it was the x-ray,” Dirk said. “Or at the very least a follow up consultation.”

 

“Oh, yes. For the surgery, correct?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I swallowed hard and shifted, looking towards the wall. Oh yeah. That. Apparently, a couple months ago they found some kind of problematic mass in one of my legs that was causing some issues with a couple of the veins or whatever as a result of all the scar tissue from all my _other_ surgeries, and now they wanted my go-ahead to go in and clear it out. It wasn't really the worst thing in the world, but I was still a little apprehensive about it. They'd told me that it was pretty close to some important arteries and nerves and whatnot and that there was a pretty good chance that they'd end up damaging something else. And I personally wasn't all too keen on them fucking up my legs even more, so I was holding out on giving them the ok for as long as I could.

 

“Alright. I'm sending you to the main hospital for the x-ray. They’ll probably keep it overnight and give you a call in the morning if they find anything,” Dr. Scratch said, scribbling something down on a piece of paper and handing it to Dirk. “We might have a follow up appointment if there is anything of notable significance on it.”

 

Dirk nodded, skimming the paper then looking over at me. “You gonna get down?”

 

I pretended to scowl at him and scooted over and got into my wheelchair. We left, and went across the parking lot to the giant, sprawling main hospital, where I'd stayed after the accident and had all my surgeries. It wasn't necessarily my favorite place--too many difficult memories--but it was alright. In the elevator up to Radiology, Dirk kept glancing over at me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he ultimately kept his mouth shut. We got out, and once we got there one of the nurses made me change into a hospital gown and then plopped me down into one of the hospital’s rickety old bleach-scented wheelchairs and wheeled me into the x-ray room. I let her, watching the almost painfully familiar tile floors roll past. Briefly, an image of my legs back then, mangled and scrawny and encased by giant metal femur splints, flashed before my eyes and I groaned softly, pressing my fingers to my forehead. Just great.

 

They took me into the room, as usual, made me lie down and then draped a heavy vest over my chest and shins, as usual, and took the x-ray. They gave me back my clothes and my wheelchair, and then we were on our way, a fresh new imaging of my horrendously mangled hips and thighs on its way to Houston’s best and brightest doctors and surgeons. Should have been simple, really: out of sight, out of mind, at least until the next appointment. Except... Even as we went to the car I couldn't stop wondering what was going to be on that x-ray. Part of me wanted there to be nothing, for the problem to have fixed itself like they sometimes did, or for it all to have been a mistake. For them to say, “Oops, we got it wrong. You're fine.” But at the same time, another part of me was genuinely worried that whatever it was was going to be a problem, and was anxious to see whether or not they could do the surgery and fix it. Either way, I was not super stoked to have to wait until next Monday for the results. Dirk must have noticed how I was acting, because in the elevator he finally spoke up.

 

“You alright?” he asked. “You seem kinda quiet.”

 

I shook my head. “No, I'm fine. I was just... thinking, I guess.”

 

“Wanna tell me what about?”

 

“The... um... x-ray.” I looked over at the wall and sighed softly. “I don't know what they're gonna find.”

 

“Well, neither do any of us,” Dirk said, leaning against the handrail.

 

“I know, but I just...” I looked down and sighed softly. “I don't know what to expect. Or what I want to expect.”

 

“Is it because of the surgery?”

 

I didn't say anything, my neck already burning enough to show what I thought.

 

“You don't have to be scared, y'know. You've done this before,” Dirk said gently.

 

“I know,” I mumbled.

 

“And you don't have to be worried about what it's going to be. If it was something big, they probably would have caught it before.”

 

“I know, but I just...” I looked down at my lap and sighed. “I don't know.”

 

“Don't worry,” Dirk said as the elevator doors opened. “You're gonna be ok.”

 

I only sighed. As Dirk checked us out, I crossed my arms on the counter, pulling at one of the flowers in the vase there. I wanted to believe him, but I just couldn't shake the anxiety I felt toward it. In the car, I could tell Dirk wanted to say more, but thankfully he left it alone. I ate my dinner in my room later that night, texting John.

 

JOHN: so are you still crippled? :B

 

DAVE: nah man havent you heard? im getting brand new never before tested robotic legs. theyre great. got em fresh from some evil corporation’s rejected invention pile.

 

JOHN: haha dave what the fuck

 

DAVE: nah nah i kid i kid. my nerves are are still shot to all hell and now they want my approval to cut my legs open again.

 

JOHN: oh man really? is it anything serious?

 

DAVE: i dont think so. not really. its probably just something minor. dont worry about it.

 

JOHN: oh ok. when's it scheduled for?

 

DAVE: if everything goes as planned probably sometime around february or march.

 

JOHN: cool. are you ~scared~ at all? :BB

 

DAVE: well seeing as this will be about the sixth surgery ive had in as many years

 

DAVE: two of which i nearly died during

 

DAVE: no. not really. its not that big a deal.

 

JOHN: oh ok.

 

DAVE: i dont know. i guess im a little worried. dont really know what theyre gonna find. thats stressing me out a little bit.

 

JOHN: i bet it’ll be fine. i mean it's not like they can mess them up any more than they are, right?

 

I frowned a little bit. John didn't know it, but that part of what was keeping me from just saying yes already. It'd taken a lot of time and patience and healing for my legs to get as unfucked up as they were now, lax as that term may be. I wasn't necessarily jumping at the chance to throw that away.

 

DAVE: ha. yeah. totally.

 

JOHN: fuck. shit. was that insensitive? sorry. i didn’t mean it.

 

DAVE: nah dont worry about it man. youre right i guess.

 

DAVE: hey i gotta go now talk to you later

 

JOHN: no, really dave. im sorry, i didnt mean to offend you.

 

DAVE: dude its been six years.

 

DAVE: the time for me to get offended by jokes about my legs has passed.

 

DAVE: see you tomorrow.

 

JOHN: g’night

 

I clicked out of the texting app and reset my alarms then locked my phone and set it on my nightstand. I sat back and sighed softly. There was no need for him to get worked up over me being paranoid, too. He didn't need to know. He'd be fine. _I'd_ be fine. Everything would be fine.

 

Everything would be fine.

  
* * *


	5. Chapter 4

As Karkat walked into school on Wednesday, he kept finding himself keeping an eye out for that Dave kid again. He didn't see him as he walked to his locker, and he thought he was in the clear, until--

 

“Well, hello again, sunshine. Long time no see, yeah?”

 

Karkat closed his eyes and sighed shortly. “What is it now?”

 

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say hi to my _bestest_ friend in the whole entire world,” Dave said, leaning over and tightly hugging an arm around Karkat.

 

The other boy’s cheeks flushed and he tensed. He pulled away and scowled down at Dave. “You know touching someone without their permission is technically molestation, right?”

 

“I didn't know hugging your friend was considered molestation.”

 

“We're _not_ friends, remember?” Karkat said flatly.

 

Dave gasped softly. “We're _not_? I could have sworn we were.” Dave shook his head and looked down. “What a shame. A-are you sure? I'm pretty sure you said we were friends.”

 

“We're not.”

 

“Oh. Ok. What was that at lunch yesterday, then?”

 

Karkat's cheeks flushed again. “I... I-I didn't have anywhere else to sit, ok? That doesn't count. It was my first day. I was nervous. I wasn't thinking straight.”

 

Dave snapped his fingers. “Oh, that reminds me. Did you ever get that phone from your brother?”

 

“What?”

 

“I asked you if you had a phone yesterday, and all you did was say something about your brother and then ran away.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Did he have your phone?”

 

“I didn't say he--” Karkat sighed again and ran a hand through his messy hair. “No. My brother did not have my phone. And yes, I have one.”

 

“Can I--”

 

“--And _no_ , you can't have my phone number,” Karkat snapped.

 

“Aww, why not? I wanna get to know you.” Dave looked him up and down and grinned. “You seem cool.”

 

“No.”

 

“C'mon, man, at least give me a chance,” Dave said, pretending to pout. “Besides, you hardly even know me. How could you possibly hate me already?”

 

Karkat cut his eyes towards Dave and scowled. He turned away from him and walked into the classroom next to them. Much to his dismay, Dave followed him.

 

“Stop following me,” Karkat muttered.

 

“I'm not.”

 

“You _literally_ just--”

 

“No, I mean this is my first period, too.” Dave shrugged. “Saw it on your schedule yesterday, but you got here like halfway through the day so it didn't really matter much. I don't know why you're in this class, though. Usually it's all juniors and seniors.” Dave looked up at Karkat and grinned. “Must be fate.”

 

“Shut up. It's not fucking _fate_. I was in this class in New York.” Under his breath, he mumbled, “Maybe _you're_ all just stupid.”

 

Dave hissed softly and then whistled. “Oooh, burn. You cut me deep, KK. You really do.”

 

“Don't call me that,” Karkat snapped suddenly, his cheeks turning bright red.

 

“Why not? KK sounds cute, just like y--”

 

“Just... don't. Ok?” Karkat looked away and walked to his seat. “Just leave me alone.”

 

“How could I possibly leave someone as cute as you alone?” Dave purred, rolling after Karkat.

 

Karkat glared and him and scoffed sharply, his cheeks burning dully. “Go away.”

 

Dave started to say something else, but was cut off by the bell. He winked at Karkat once more before he turned around. “See you later, babe.”

 

Karkat tried to pay attention to the lesson, but the entire time he could feel Dave's eyes on his neck. He kept finding himself glancing back towards Dave's seat in the back of the class, and every time he did Dave would smile and wink at him. Each time he did, Karkat's cheeks warmed a bit, and by the time the bell rang at the end of the period, his entire face was red and fiery.

 

“Hey, KitKat,” Dave said, sidling up to Karkat. “So, about that--”

 

“--You're not getting my fucking phone number.”

 

“How do you know I was gonna ask again?” Dave said innocently. “What if I wanted to ask about something else?”

 

“Because. I know you. And you're not getting my phone number.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because,” Karkat said, frowning down at Dave. “I'm not in the business of handing out my phone number to complete strangers.”

 

“But we're _not_ complete strangers.”

 

“But we're not friends either.”

 

“Oh, so you only let your friends have your phone number.”

 

“I never said that,” Karkat replied as they stopped in front of his classroom.

 

“So is it just me you won't give it to then?” Dave said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I never said that either,” he said flatly as the bell rang. “Don't you have someone else to annoy somewhere else?”

 

Dave smirked at him as he turned to go towards his own class, but didn't say anything else. Karkat was glad to have an entire two periods without him, but before lunch, Dave found him again.

 

“So if we're not friends and we're not strangers, then what are we?” Dave pretended to pout at Karkat. “At least tell me I'm something special to you.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Special asshole, maybe.”

 

“Well, that's no way to talk to your not-friend not-stranger,” Dave pretended to scold.

 

“Fuck off,” Karkat muttered as they went into the cafeteria.

 

“Ooh.” Dave smirked at him. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

 

“I don't have a mother.”

 

“Oh. Well I bet if you did she'd be pissed if you kissed her with a mouth like that.”

 

Karkat only rolled his eyes and scoffed. He turned away from Dave and started to walk towards the other side of the cafeteria.

 

“Hey, where are you goin’?” Dave called after him. “Aren't you gonna sit with us?”

 

“No,” Karkat said. “Because I want to actually eat my lunch in peace for once.”

 

“In peace and by yourself?” Dave asked. “What are you, the ‘misunderstood’ emo kid from some shitty werewolf book? And besides, you haven't even met John yet. I've been telling him all about you. All good things, I assure you.”

 

“Are your friends gonna interrogate me again?” Karkat asked flatly.

 

“Maybe. But don't worry. I'll make sure they don't bother you too much.”

 

Karkat sighed softly and rolled his eyes again. “Fine. But only because I don't have anywhere else to sit.” Under his breath, he muttered, “And it's the only way to get you to shut up.”

 

Dave smiled and started rolling towards their usual table. “Attaboy. You can be the newest addition to the harem.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, nothing,” Dave said with a laugh, shaking his head. “Inside joke.”

 

Karkat narrowed his eyes at him, but didn't say anything. At the table, the cat girl and her bodyguard were there, along with the girl with the prosthetic arm, as well as a few new people: a mixed girl with masses of thick curly dark brown hair swirled up into an equally messy ponytail and a scrawny little white kid with jet black hair and the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen on a person. The new girl smiled widely at Karkat, her round brown eyes scrunching up a little.

 

“Hi!” she said brightly. “I haven't seen you around here before. Are you the new kid? I'm Feferi Peixes. Nice to meet you!”

 

“Uh...” Karkat stammered as he sat down beside Dave. “Y-yeah. I'm new. My name's Karkat.”

 

Feferi gasped softly, her eyes widening. “Oh!” She looked over at Vriska. “Is this the kid you were telling me about? The short one?”

 

Karkat frowned a little when she said ‘short.’ Vriska nodded, leaning her chin on her fist, and smirked in his direction. “Yeah. Didn't I tell ya? Tiny.”

 

Feferi giggled softly, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. “Yeah, you were right.”

 

Karkat glared in Vriska's direction. “I'm right here, y'know,” he snapped. “And I'm not that short.”

 

Vriska snorted. “C'mon. I barely even know you, and I know that's bullshit. How tall are you anyways?”

 

“None of your business,” he growled.

 

“Can't be more than five three...” Vriska murmured. To the black haired boy, she asked, “What do you think, Egbert?”

 

The Egbert kid shrugged. “I don't really know myself. I mean, all Dave told me was that he was tiny, which he is, but I'd have to say... five one. Maybe.”

 

“Five _one_?” Vriska eyed Karkat and grinned. “Seems generous.”

 

“Fuck you,” Karkat snapped. “And he's right anyways, so you can shut up about it.”

 

“Is he? You really seem more like you're five foot. Maybe even 4’ 11.”

 

“Right?” Dave chimed in. “That's what I said, and he kept denying it.”

 

“You can shut the fuck up, thank you very much,” Karkat growled at Dave. “And why does it even matter how tall I am?”

 

“Well, we've just never seen anyone your age who's as small as you are,” Feferi piped up from beside Vriska. “It's... interesting, I guess.”

 

Karkat scowled at everyone else, his cheeks turning pink. “Be quiet.”

 

“Yeah, you guys,” Dave said. “Stop picking on him. This one’s new.” He put his arm around Karkat and pulled his face flush against his. “We can't tease him too much. We don't want to scare him away just yet.”

 

“Are you sure?” Karkat muttered, tossing Dave's arm off him and pushing away from him. “You don't really seem to be trying too hard.”

 

“Oh, c'mon, short stop, lighten up a little,” Vriska said, leaning over and gently hitting Karkat's shoulder. “Can't you learn to take a joke?”

 

Karkat only growled softly at her. “Fuck off.”

 

Vriska only smirked, laying her head on her crossed arms. “Already so angry. And I've only known you two days.”

 

“Oh, don't worry, that's more than enough time,” Karkat said under his breath, picking at his lunch. Once the period was finally over, he and Dave ended up walking to class together.

 

“So? Day two. Whaddya think? Are you gonna join our merry band of misfits now?”

 

“No. I think your friends are all fucking assholes, just like you,” Karkat said bluntly.

 

“Well, you're not completely wrong. I tend to rub off on people,” Dave said with a shrug. “Pretty soon you'll be one too.”

 

“What makes you think I'd stick around long enough for that to happen?”

 

“Well, for one, you haven't run away just yet, and you've sat with me and my friends at lunch for the past two days. I'd say the odds are in my favor for you eventually becoming a part of Dave Strider’s world famous harem of assholes,” Dave said with a grin. “Plus, you've been walking with me for the past two minutes even though I'm pretty sure your next period is on the other side of the school.”

 

“Wh-- Shit, really?” Karkat looked around in alarm, a stream of hisses and swearing escaping him when he realized that Dave was right. He growled in annoyance. “Fuck you,” he spat at Dave as he turned and started speed walking down the hallway.

 

“Only after dinner and a movie!” Dave shouted down the hall, gaining a few looks from passersby and making Karkat turn bright red again. Karkat got to his next class just as the bell rang and after the teacher chewed him out for nearly being late on his second day, he went and sat down, his face burning, cursing that asshole Dave under his breath. He managed to avoid him for the rest of the day, until he was waiting in the front lobby for Kankri to arrive. He heard the sound of Dave's wheelchair creaking and immediately scowled.

 

“What is it now?” Karkat asked flatly.

 

“Are you gonna ask me that every time I see you?” Dave rolled up beside Karkat. “‘S gonna get pretty boring after a while, right?”

 

“You know you almost made me late to 7th period, right?”

 

“Now, I'm not gonna say that was your fault for following me for so long,” Dave started. Karkat growled softly at him. “But,” Dave added, “it's only your second day. They'll cut you some slack.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Tell that to my English teacher.”

 

“Who do you have?”

 

“Johnson.”

 

Dave hissed. “Aw, shit. She's the worst. Sorry.”

 

Karkat glared down at Dave. “Yeah. She is.”

 

“But look on the bright side. At least now you know you can make it across the school in three minutes,” Dave offered.

 

Karkat only huffed angrily. “Whatever.” He pulled out his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. “I have to go. My brother's here.”

 

“Wait,” Dave said. “Come here for a sec.”

 

“What do you want?” Karkat asked, stopping with his hand on the door handle.

 

“Come here. I wanna tell you something.”

 

“What is it?”

 

Dave shook his head. “You have to come here first.”

 

Karkat looked out the window, catching sight of Kankri’s car across the yard, and then back at Dave. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, and then stepped back over to him. “What do you want?”

 

Dave gestured for him to lean down and once he did, hooked an arm around his neck and pulled down. He sloppily pressed his lips to Karkat's cheek, a smirk played across his mouth. “See you tomorrow, babe,” he purred into Karkat's ear.

 

Karkat's entire face turned bright red and he pulled away from Dave sharply, almost running into another kid in the process. His hand flew to his cheek, the spot where Dave had kissed him tingling and warmer than the rest of his skin. He stammered for a bit, too alarmed and bewildered to form words, before he just growled and pushed open the door, stalking outside and not looking back. When he threw open the side door to the car and chucked in his backpack, Kankri started a bit. He was looking at him with wide alarmed eyes when he climbed in the passenger seat, his cheeks still pink, seething silently to himself.

 

“Is everything alright?” Kankri asked carefully.

 

“I'm fine,” Karkat muttered, looking out the window. His cheeks were still burning fiercely, the feeling of Dave's lips against his cheek still stuck in his mind and on his skin.

 

“Are you sure?” Kankri pressed. “You're blushing rather hard. Did something happen? Was someone bothering you? Because if they were, I or Cronus would be happy to call the school to get it straightened out. It is perfectly fine to have an adult help if you're being bullie--”

 

“I said I'm _fine_ ,” Karkat said forcefully. “It was just... something someone said. One of my f... friends. Don't worry about it.”

 

Kankri pressed his mouth into a straight line. “Alright. If you insist.” He smiled a bit. “It's good that you're already making friends. Forming relationships with people your age in a new environment is important for a smooth transition.”

 

“You sound like some kind of shitty self-help book,” Karkat muttered, sitting back and closing his eyes.

 

“Language,” Kankri warned. “And it's true. Even more so, considering our circumstances. It wouldn't be healthy for you to have to deal with both that _and_ the stress of a new school without an adequate support system.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Karkat said under his breath. “Whatever.”

 

Kankri glanced over at him as they rolled up to a red light, but didn't say anything.

 

“Is the internet working at home yet?” Karkat asked. “Tez and Sol have been pestering me to skype them since we got here.”

 

“It should be. If it's not now, then it should be in a couple of days.”

 

“Finally,” Karkat murmured as they pulled into the driveway. When they got inside, Cronus was reclining on the couch, smoking a cigarette.

 

“Hey, chief,” he said to Kankri. He nodded towards Karkat. “Hey, kid.”

 

“Hi,” Karkat murmured, dropping his backpack next to a pile of boxes by the door.

 

“Cronus, what did I tell you about smoking in the house?” Kankri scolded.

 

Cronus groaned quietly and begrudgingly leaned forward and snuffed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table. “Sorry. Had a rough day at work.”

 

Kankri walked over to Cronus and bent to kiss him. “Yes, but you know how I feel about secondhand smoke. That can harm people, too.”

 

Cronus wrapped his arms around Kankri's waist, pulling him closer. “Sorry. Here, why don't I make it up to you?” He pressed his lips against the other man’s stomach. “I've missed you.”

 

Kankri flushed, his ears turning pink. “I've been gone for all of about 15 minutes.”

 

“I know, but I haven't seen you all day either.”

 

Kankri laughed softly, hooking his arms around Cronus’s neck. “Oh, what, do you have separation anxiety or something now?”

 

Cronus grinned, running his hands up Kankri's sides. “Maybe.”

 

From the kitchen, Karkat gagged loudly, pretending to stick his middle finger down his throat. “If you guys are gonna have sex, at least do it in your own damn room.”

 

Kankri blushed and then frowned. “Karkat.”

 

“Don't worry, kid, we won't be too loud,” Cronus chimed in.

 

“ _Cronus_ ,” he heard Kankri say sharply as he rolled his eyes and went to his own room.

Karkat's room was one of the smaller ones in the house, but it was still about twice as big as his one back in New York. Even though Kankri and Cronus hadn't intended to bring him along, they still had enough guest rooms in the, as Kankri called it, “quaint” suburban townhouse they had rented. It was still cluttered with unpacked boxes, even though they had moved in almost a month ago. Kankri had commented on it before, but Karkat never seemed to have the energy to actually put anything away. He usually got out of it by claiming he was still grieving. He stepped around a pile of clothes by his desk and sat down, pulling out his laptop and starting it up. Just as Kankri had said, the Wi-Fi connected for the first time since they got there. He pulled out his phone and texted Terezi while he opened the Skype application.

 

CG: HEY.

 

CG:  YOU UP?

 

GC: Y34H M4N WH4TS UP?

 

CG: CAN YOU GET ON SKYPE?

 

GC: Y34H, I THINK SO. WHY DID YOU GUYS FIN4LY G3T YOUR INT3RN3T CONN3CT3D?

 

CG: YEAH. IT ONLY TOOK THREE FUCKING WEEKS

 

GC: NIIIIC3 >:]]] ONE S3C

 

As soon as the incoming call icon popped up on Karkat's screen, a half grin played across his lips. He clicked “accept,” and the familiar face of Terezi filled his screen. Her signature red sunglasses glinted in the light of wherever she was. She always kept her windows open in her room, even though she'd been legally blind since she was 9.

 

“Karkat?” she asked, her voice crackling over the computer’s speakers. “You there?”

 

“Yeah, I'm right here,” Karkat said, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Hey.”

 

Terezi's face broke out in a wide grin, showing off her turquoise braces. “Hey, kid. Haven't seen you in a minute. What took you so long?”

 

“I don't know. I guess everyone in Houston’s a fucking idiot because the guy who was supposed to connect it when we got here didn't show, and the other guy put the cables in wrong,” Karkat said.

 

Terezi laughed aloud. “I see someone's certainly enjoying his new town.”

 

“It's not my fault, ok? Houston’s just...” Karkat searched for the right word. “Frustrating, I guess.”

 

“Is it really that bad?”

 

Karkat sighed softly. “In reality? No, not really. It's just... weird. I don't know. It's not like New York. I guess I'm still ‘adjusting,” as Kankri would put it.”

 

Terezi nodded. “Mmm. Well, don't be upset, kid. You can always hitch a ride back here with Tula if it turns out too shitty.”

 

Karkat smiled a little. “Heh. Yeah. Is Sol up? I think he kept bothering me even more than you.”

 

Terezi shook her head, her chin-length bright orange hair shaking as she did. “Nah. He threw his backpack on the couch soon as we got home and screamed about his English teacher for half an hour, and then he sulked and did some programming stuff until he passed out like an hour ago.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Sounds like him. Tell him I say hi once he wakes up, ok?”

 

“D’you want me to wake him up? I don't think he'd be too pissed, especially if it's for you.”

 

“Nah, let him sleep. I can probably get back on later tonight, talk to him when he's fully awake.”

 

Terezi grinned wickedly. “Is it so you guys can have kinky skype sex while I'm not there?”

 

Karkat frowned, his cheeks turning red. “Fuck you.”

 

“Gladly. Speaking of, how's your school down there?” She stuck out her tongue. “Got any _hawt_ bfs yet?”

 

“Tez, I've been there two days.”

 

“And? Who knows, maybe you could find someone in two days. Maybe everyone down there's really desperate.”

 

“Wow, Terezi, you're so flattering,” Karkat said flatly.

 

She shrugged, the corner of her mouth tugging up into a smirk. “I try my hardest. But for real, you got any crushes yet? Lemme know them _deets_ , kid.”

 

“There aren't any ‘deets’ yet. I told you, I've only been going there two days. I'm still just trying to get class on time. School’s fucking huge.”

 

Terezi pouted a bit. “Well, have you at least noticed any cute people?”

 

Karkat opened his mouth to speak and then hesitated. For whatever reason, as soon as she'd said that Dave popped up in his mind. His cheeks flushed bright red and a soft strangled squeak came from his mouth. Karkat shook his head hard and cleared his throat shakily before he spoke. “Um, n-no. Not really. But I mean, there are over two thousand students, so there’s probably a couple. I'm not really looking very hard.”

 

Terezi gasped and grinned even wider than before. “You hesitated! C'mon, spill. Who is it?”

 

“I-it's not like it's anyone you would know,” Karkat said defensively.

 

“I know, but maybe I can get Sollux to dig up something about ‘em. I gotta know who my best friend’s datin’, after all. C'moooonn, tell mee. Is he cool?”

 

“H--” Karkat sighed and looked down. “Y... Yeah. I guess. I don't know.”

 

“So there _is_ someone!” Terezi exclaimed, sunglasses flashing. “Now you have to tell me. Who is he? What's he like?”

 

“Shh,” Karkat hissed. “Quiet. I don't wanna bring Sol and half your apartment building into this.”

 

“Not until you tell me who he is!”

 

Karkat sighed sharply. “Fine. But only if you'll shut up. H... His name’s D-dave,” he mumbled, his cheeks and neck burning fiercely. What has wrong with him? Why did this keep happening everytime he thought of Dave?

 

Terezi sat back and smiled, satisfied. “Dave who?”

 

“Strider.”

 

Terezi suddenly perked up and gasped softly. “Oh! Isn't that the kid Tula told us about that one time?”

 

Karkat frowned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It's him.”

 

“Nice! So what's he like? Is he anything like the legends?”

 

Karkat thought back to Dave, him and his annoying condescending smirk and his annoying sunglasses he always kept on his forehead but never wore and his annoying voice that always sounded like he was mocking him, and he scowled. “He's a fucking asshole, and I'm ashamed to have ever had the misfortune to meet him.”

 

Terezi only snorted. “You don't mean that.”

 

“Yes, I do. He's annoying as shit and he won't leave me alone.”

 

“No, you _looove_ him,” Terezi drawled. “I can tell.”

 

“Shut up,” Karkat snapped. “No, I don't. H-he's super fucking cocky all the damn time and all he ever does is tease me.”

 

Terezi chuckled softly. “Man, you're so head-over-heels for this kid already, aren't you? Just admit it.”

 

“No I'm--”

 

“Karkat, I know you. I can tell when you actually hate someone and when you're just trying to act like you do.” She leaned her chin in her palm and smiled. “Right now you just sound like you're trying to convince yourself otherwise.”

 

Karkat's cheeks warmed up. “I'm n...” he said feebly. He sighed. “I've only know him two days. How could I possibly like him already?”

 

“Two days is enough, if you like someone enough.”

 

Karkat frowned, staring down at his hands. “I don't... I don't know. Whatever. He probably doesn't even like me. I bet he's already dating somewhere. There was this kid at lunch, one of his friends, who kept looking at him this way. I bet they're something.”

 

Terezi shrugged. “Maybe. But you never know. Way Latula described him, you two seem like you'd be cute together.”

 

Karkat snorted softly. “Yeah. Ok.”

 

“No, really! I bet you'd look cute together. Is he taller than you? You always look good with taller people.”

 

“Says the blind girl. And I guess technically he is.”

 

“‘Technically’?”

 

“Well, he's... in a wheelchair. He's only to like my shoulder. But he says that he's supposed to be almost six foot.”

 

“Really?” Terezi grinned. “Cool. Already nice to date a disabled kid. You can get away with more shit.”

 

“Mmm.” Karkat checked the time on his phone. “Hey, I gotta get going. I have a lot of homework to do.”

 

“Yeah, I do too. I been ignoring my algebra since last Thursday. Better get started on that.” Terezi stuck her tongue out a bit. “Have fun dreaming about your crippled boyfriend.”

 

“Fuck off,” Karkat sneered. After a moment, he smiled a little. “Tell Sol I said hi.”

 

“I will.” Terezi smiled herself and waved. “See you.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Terezi hung up the call and Karkat shut his laptop. He sat back and gnawed on his thumbnail, his mind on Dave. _Did_ he like him? He'd only know him for two days, and he was certain that he hated him. But... at the same time, he just couldn't get that smile of his out of his head, or the way his eyes sparkled whenever he teased Karkat, or that low gravelly chuckle of his, or the way his lips had felt against his cheek…

 

Karkat shook his head and sighed. Even if he did like Dave, which he couldn't have because he was a total ass, there was no way Dave would like him back. He was too mean. Too abrasive. He wasn't exactly the type of person people ever particularly enjoyed being around.

 

Karkat ran a hand through his hair and stood up. He paced back and forth between his door and his chair, chewing on his thumb. He stopped for a moment when he heard muffled thuds and voices from the next room over. When he realized what it was, he scowled and scoffed.

 

This was going to be a tricky year.

 

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> sorry this took so long. high school is not fun as a freshman, and i am very very prone to procrastination.
> 
> i still wanna say that it wont happen again, but im writing this a different way than im used to so it probably will. sorry. i dont like stories that take forever to update either. ill try to make it up to you sometime ((like w oneshot maybe?? i keep saying this but only a couple of u ever give me requests!! i want to whore out my writing ability!!!))
> 
> yeah so um. sorry. ill try to get chapter 6 up sooner.
> 
> see you next chapter.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am currently having a Bad Time™

Halfway through Karkat's third week here, he did something crazy: he actually came to _me_ first in the morning.

 

“Do you still want my phone number?” he asked me abruptly that Thursday.

 

“What?”

 

“I said d... do you want my phone number still,” he said, his voice getting more mumbled as he spoke. His cheeks turned pink as he looked away and scratched the back of his head. “I-I can... um... g-give it to you now. If you want.”

 

“Oh. No, yeah, that'd be nice.” I pulled out my phone. With a slight smirk, I asked, “What took you so long?”

 

“Shut up,” he muttered. “You're lucky I changed my mind at all.” After a second, he sighed. “I just... I guess I thought about what you said and I thought that maybe I could... g-get to know you a little better.” Half a second later, he added, “But that doesn't mean we're friends.”

 

I smiled. “Alright, whatever you say. But still, thanks. Appreciate it.”

 

“Yeah...” Karkat murmured as he handed me his phone. As I entered his number into my contacts, I glanced up at him and grinned a little.

 

“What?”

 

I shook my head. “Nothing. Here.” I handed him back his phone. As I did, the bell rang. I gave him a single handed wave before I turned around and we went our separate ways. All throughout first and second period, I could practically feel his number burning in my pocket, so during third period, I slipped my phone into my lap and sent him a quick text.

 

DAVE: yo whats up kitkat

 

He texted back a couple minutes later.

 

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK.

 

KARKAT: WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TEXTING ME.

 

DAVE: woah dude chill no need to bite my fucking head off

 

KARKAT: SORRY. MY PHONE’S FUCKED UP. I CAN ONLY TEXT IN ALL CAPS.

 

DAVE: damn you ought to get that checked out and fixed man

 

DAVE: someone might think youre mad at them

 

KARKAT: WHO SAYS I’M NOT?

 

KARKAT: WHY ARE YOU EVEN TEXTING ME IN THE FIRST PLACE? AREN’T YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS RIGHT NOW?

 

DAVE: maybe

 

DAVE: its fine though i can get away with it

 

DAVE: teachers usually feel weird about taking a crippled kids phone

 

KARKAT: ARE YOU EVEN ALLOWED TO USE THAT WORD? ISN’T THAT A SLUR?

 

DAVE: nah man you dont understand

 

DAVE: *i* can use it because i actually am crippled

 

DAVE: its just you people with four fully functioning limbs who cant

 

KARKAT: OH.

 

KARKAT: WELL THAT STILL DOESN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION. MY TEACHER NEARLY CAUGHT ME JUST NOW. WHAT DO YOU WANT?

 

DAVE: eh nothing really

 

DAVE: just wanted to talk to my new best bro

 

DAVE: and i wanted to see whether or not this was your actual phone number

 

DAVE: cuz you were kinda super fucking vague on who you do or dont give your number to and im not entirely sure if were friends still

 

DAVE: is the jury still out on that

 

KARKAT: THE JURY HASN’T EVEN BEEN CALLED INTO FUCKING SESSION.

 

DAVE: i see

 

DAVE: what about a court of appeals kinda deal

 

KARKAT: FUCK YOU. I ALREADY TOLD YOU. WE’RE NOT FRIENDS.

 

DAVE: overruled

 

KARKAT: THAT’S NOT HOW A COURT OF APPEALS WORKS.

 

DAVE: then objection or whatever the fuck

 

DAVE: whatever floats your boat

 

DAVE: your tiny adorable rage filled boat

 

KARKAT: FUCK YOU.

 

DAVE: and besides if we *werent* friends then why would we be texting each other in the middle of class, both risking getting in massive amounts of trouble

 

DAVE: “not-friends” dont take risks like that

 

KARKAT: YOU’RE RIGHT. THEY DON’T. I SHOULD BE IGNORING YOU THEN.

 

DAVE: no wait thats not what i meant

 

DAVE: also way to hit me right in the feels dude

 

Karkat didn't reply for the rest of the period, but I was able to corner him on the way to lunch.

 

“So, you're gonna offer me your phone number,” I said as I wheeled up beside him, “completely unprompted, might I add, and then get all bent outta shape when I utilize it? Way to be consistent, man.”

 

“I'm not angry that you texted me, I'm angry that you did it in the middle of Spanish, when my teacher was right beside me,” Karkat said flatly, holding open a door for me.

 

“I said I was sorry.”

 

“No you didn't.”

 

“Oh I didn't? Shit. Sorry.”

 

“‘Sorry’ won't make up for my teacher verbally abusing me in front of the entire class.”

 

I winced a little. “Ouch. Sorry. Did she at least do it in English?”

 

“Nope. All Spanish,” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

 

“Shit, man. That's the worst. Here, how's about I make it up to you. I give you a kiss, and we'll call it even.”

 

“No,” he said automatically. After a second, he realized what I'd said and his face scrunched up in disgust. “Wait. What? No. No. Of course not. What the fuck dude?”

 

I shrugged and grinned at him. “Worth a shot.”

 

Karkat scowled down at me, his cheeks pink. He looked away from and sighed sharply. “Are you this annoying to all your friends?”

 

“No. Just you, mostly.” After a second, I broke into another grin. “Wait, does that mean we're friends?”

 

“What? No. I never said that.”

 

“Yes you did. You said to all my friends, implying that you were the only one I wasn't nice to. You included yourself in the group. That means we're friends now.”

 

“No it doesn't,” he snapped, his cheeks turning pink again. “I-I just misspoke. That's not what I meant.”

 

“Nah, I think you meant we're friends now.”

 

“Y--! No I--!” Karkat started to stammer. After a few moments, though, he sighed sharply and rolled his eyes. “Ugh. _Fine_. Since you won't fucking leave me alone otherwise, I... _guess_ we're friends. I guess.”

 

I grinned. “I knew I'd get through to you someday. Speaking of, I wanted to ask you something.”

 

“What?” Karkat asked, narrowing his eyes a tiny bit.

 

“Oh, nothing much,” I said nonchalantly as I pulled out my camera. “‘S just... I was thinking earlier that because you decided to be so charitable earlier and give me your number, I'd need a picture to go with your name. Can't just have ‘Kitkat Vantas’ in my phone without a mental image. Just think of what were to happen if I got your number mixed up with someone else's. It'd be pure chaos. Cities would burn. Empire would crumble. Children would cry. People would perish. It would be utter madness. Complete discord. Could you imagine?”

 

Karkat furrowed his eyebrows a bit. “What?”

 

“I guess what I'm trying to say is, say ‘cheese.’”

 

Before Karkat could object, I'd held up my camera and snapped a picture of him. The flash stunned him, making him stumble back a bit. He rubbed at his eyes, swearing sharply under his breath, as I shook out the picture.

 

“Dude, what the actual fuck!?” he squeaked, still blinking and squinting. “You just about fucking blinded me. Did you just take a fucking _picture_ of me?”

 

“Sorry,” I murmured, holding the new picture up to examine it. “Forgot to warn you about the flash. ‘S kinda bright.”

 

In the picture, Karkat's face was still drawn together in confusion, his eyebrows knit together and his mouth still half open and twisted into a small frown. One of his eyes had started to squint a bit from the flash. The entire thing was so cute and hilarious that I couldn't help but grin.  
  
I looked up at Karkat and grinned. "And you say you're not photogenic."

“What the fuck? I don't care about the-- D-did you just take a picture of me?”

 

“What? Oh. Yeah. But don't worry about it.” I shrugged, slipping the photo into my bag. “I dunno. It's just my thing, I guess. I do that with all my friends.” I looked back up at him. “Consider yourself part of the club now.”

 

Karkat only scoffed. “You can't just take someone's picture without asking them. Get rid of that picture.”

 

“No. It's cute. I'm keeping it. And besides, this is just my hobby. I've been doing it for, what, 5 years now? It's fine.”

 

“Is that supposed to be a good thing? Your hobby being stalking people?” he muttered.

 

“I'm not _stalking_ anybody, I just like having pictures of my friends. It's nice. Comforting, I guess.”

 

Karkat huffed sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, don't show anyone that picture.”

 

“Aw, but why? You're such a cutie.”

 

“ _Don't_ ,” he said forcefully, his cheeks blushing red anyways.

 

As we got to our table, I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. I won't. It'll just go up in my locker. Fair?”

 

“Why am I friends with you?”

 

“Don't act like you don't love me,” I said playfully.

 

Throughout the rest of the day, I kept texting Karkat, laughing at how easy it was to get him flustered and riled up. We kept talking until I got called down to the office during 9th period. Dirk was waiting there for me.

 

“Hey,” he said as I approached. “Dr. Scratch called. They want your legs now.”

 

“Oh really? That's gonna be a bit of a problem. I've grown quite attached to these mangled flesh stumps, useless as they may be. Having legs is a nice aesthetic. They're gonna have to pry them from my cold dead hands.”

 

“Nah. I already agreed to hold you down once we get over there,” Dirk said as he held the door open for me. “You won't stand a chance.”

 

“Really? They enlisted another cripple to help? Must be understaffed.”

 

“Mm, well y’know. Budget cuts.”

 

“I thought they said we were gonna look at the x-ray next week,” I said as we started off towards the hospital.

 

“I don't know. They called me about half an hour ago, said we should come in today.”

 

“Oh.” I sat back, watching the damp pavement roll past. “Is that... a good thing?”

 

“I don't know.” Dirk cut his eyes towards me. “But don't worry. If it was something big, they would have caught it earlier.”

 

I nodded, leaning my arm against the window. I was quiet for the rest of the ride there. Dirk was probably right. It was gonna be fine. They would have caught anything major earlier. Right?

 

 

When we got there, after I'd been looked over and deemed Not Dead, they called Dirk into the other room and he stayed in there for almost an hour. When a nurse finally came to fetch me, her face was caught between a look of worry and one of artificial reassurance. But most overwhelmingly, her eyes were pained and pitying even as she tried to smile. I knew that look. That was the look they gave you before they told you that you were paralyzed for life.

 

When I got into the x-ray room, everyone else was making that face too. Except for Dirk. He just looked sick and pale, like he was about to throw up, and he was gripping his left shoulder with a white knuckled hand, the way he did when he was stressed. On the monitor were my x-rays from earlier, almost all bright white lines from all the rods and screws holding my legs together. Except there was something new this time. On my right thigh, a couple inches away from the bone, was a blurry, fuzzy white mass of some kind. That must've been what they were trying to take out. Except, people didn't make faces like that at scar tissue.

 

“What is it?” I asked, my voice sounding too loud in my ears, the way it did when I got nervous.

 

“Um,” Dr. Scratch said. Doctors didn't say ‘um’ at scar tissue. “Well, upon further review of your x-rays, we were able to look at the mass in your leg a little bit closer.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well, it _is_ in a better place than we first thought, so the surgery to remove it will be much less risky than we thought, which is certainly very good, but the mass-- It's... not exactly what we originally thought it was, but it--”

 

“Ok, I know you're the expert and everything, and I'm probably not supposed to interrupt you, but whatever bullshit ad-libbed sugar coating you're trying to do is really only stressing me the fuck out. Just tell me what it is.” I sometimes got kind of impatient and rude when I was nervous.

 

Dr. Scratch cut his eyes towards Dirk and sighed softly. He looked me in the eye, and everything around us seemed to slow down as he said, “It's a tumor.”

 

“Oh,” I said softly. A pause as what he said sunk in. “Oh.”

 

“It's benign right?” Dirk murmured from beside him. He was staring up at the x-ray now, kneading his shoulder anxiously. He had fear in his eyes and he was breathing heavier than usual. “You said it... It was--”

 

“That's not exactly what I said, but yes, it is certainly very possible, if not most likely that the tumor will be benign, but we can't know for sure until we do a biopsy.”

 

“What? What's that...?” I looked over at Dirk. “What does that...?”

 

“Ordinarily, we would use an instrument such as a needle to collect a sample to send to the lab, but in this case, because of your age and its position and several other factors, we will not be doing that today.”

 

“What? Why not?” I was starting to get scared. “Can't you just--”

 

Dr. Scratch held up his hand, cutting me off. “We _could_ do it today, but we decided that ultimately it would not be worth the risk or the resources. The tumor itself is currently rather small, and there was a bit of concern as to whether or not a big enough sample would be able to be collected at all. It made more sense to us to remove it during the pre-arranged surgery." 

 

“The one that's in 5 months? That one?” I scoffed, searching for the right words. “Won't it, like, grow or some shit between now and then?” 

 

“Dave,” Dirk mumbled wearily, his eyes squeezed shut.

 

“What? I don't want this... this _thing_ growing inside me for five more fucking months. W--” I looked back at Dr. Scratch. “W-what if it turns malignant or c-cancerous or whatever? C-can that happen?”

 

"Well, there's no doubt that it will grow some in that time, and yes, a non cancerous mass can become malignant, but that should not be a significant issue due to its relatively small circumference. If anything, we do want it to gain a bit more mass so that we will have enough suitable tissue for a proper biopsy and analysis. But don't worry. We will be keeping a much, much closer eye on it for now. You don't have to worry. We'll make sure nothing happens."

 

I wanted to say something else, but I couldn't find the right words. I sat back in my wheelchair, the dull ache of tears starting to rise in my chest. “W... Why didn't... Why didn't you find it earlier?”

 

“The mass we originally identified did not appear to be anything like this, and it would have been a very large, possibly erroneous stretch to even think it was a tumor. It made much more sense to conclude that it was simply another collection of scar tissue. Only recently did we notice an unusual margin of growth. We found it as early as we could.” Dr. Scratch sighed. “If anything, we caught it earlier than most. In that context, you're lucky.”

 

I opened my mouth to retaliate, but stopped when I felt Dirk's hand on my shoulder. His face was back to his usual stoic mask but I could still feel his anxiety in how hard he was holding me.

 

“That's enough,” he told me. To Dr. Scratch, he said, “Thank you.”

 

“It's not a problem. You can get some secondary information at the front desk.”

 

I didn't say anything as Dirk wheeled me out, his breathing still clipped and shallow from above me. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to keep from screaming or bursting into tears. God. A fucking tumor.

 

In the car, we were both silent, too traumatized to try and talk. I didn't want to hear what he had to say anyways. As we pulled into the driveway, Dirk cleared his throat.

 

“W... We're gonna be ok,” he said hoarsely as he put the car into park.

 

“No, we're not,” I said flatly.

 

“Yes, we are. This is going to be fine. They're gonna take it out and you're gonna be fine. We're--” Dirk held his breath for a moment. “We're gonna be ok.” He seemed to be saying it more to himself than to me. He helped me out of the car, but he lingered outside for a bit. Through the window I could see him leaning against the van, his head in his hands. I went back to my room, stopping to grab a couple of Dirk's beers from the fridge. He wouldn't miss them. I tossed one on my bed and stashed the rest in my dresser. I hoisted myself up and cracked it open. I took a small sip, staring up at the ceiling. I wasn't usually much into drinking, but this was a “special occasion.” I guess. I kept sipping from my beer, enjoying the slight buzz it gave me, and pulled out my phone to text John.

 

DAVE: hey guess who has cancer haha

 

I hesitated before I hit send. No. I couldn't tell him. Not yet. Could I?  It was John. I knew him. This would just stress him out a ton more than usual. And what if it turned out to be nothing? He'd probably think I was joking anyways. But I still wanted to talk to someone. I deleted the message and clicked out of the conversation. I tapped Karkat's name.

 

DAVE: hey

 

I waited. I took another sip of my beer. It was only 5. After a couple minutes, my phone buzzed.

 

KARKAT: WHAT DO YOU WANT?

 

DAVE: nothin really

 

DAVE: i just

 

DAVE: kinda wanted to talk

 

DVE: maybe get to know you a little better

 

DAVE: i still hardly even know anything about you tbh

 

KARKAT: HAHA. VERY FUNNY. I GET IT.

 

DAVE: no really

 

DAVE: i want to know you better

 

DAVE: i dont know

 

DAVE: maybe try again or something

 

DAVE: like here i dont even know who you live with or why you moved down here

 

DAVE: can we at least start there?

 

No reply.

 

DAVE: hello

 

DAVE: karkat

 

DAVE: you still there

 

KARKAT: I’M HERE.

 

KARKAT: FINE. SINCE YOU’RE SO HELLBENT ON ‘GETTING TO KNOW’ ME ALL OF A SUDDEN.

 

KARKAT: I LIVE WITH MY BROTHER. AND HIS FIANCE.

 

KARKAT: WE MOVED DOWN HERE LIKE A MONTH AGO. WE HAD TOO MUCH STUFF TO GET DONE FOR ME TO GO TO SCHOOL UNTIL LAST WEEK.

 

DAVE: see? were already so much closer than before

 

KARKAT: SUUURE.

 

DAVE: you said you were from ny right

 

KARKAT: YEAH. SOME STUPID TINY WHITE WASHED SUBURB OF THE CITY.

 

DAVE: what was it like there

 

KARKAT: WHY ARE YOU ACTING ALL SENTIMENTAL AND MUSHY ALL OF A SUDDEN?

 

KARKAT: IF THIS IS A FUCKING PRANK I SWEAR TO GOD

 

DAVE: its not i swear

 

DAVE: i dont know im just

 

DAVE: curious i guess

 

KARKAT: WHAT?

 

DAVE: i dont know

 

DAVE: ive kind of had a really really shitty day

 

DAVE: i just kinda wanted to

 

DAVE: talk to someone or something

 

KARKAT: WHAT HAPPENED?

 

I didn't know why, but when I read his reply I suddenly felt tears on cheeks. I didn't know where they were coming from. I wasn't crying. I was _not_ crying over a fucking question. I pressed the sleeve of my shirt against my eyes, taking a moment to calm myself down before I texted back.

 

DAVE: its nothing really

 

DAVE: im fine i guess

 

DAVE: i dont really wanna talk about it right now

 

DAVE: its ok if you dont wanna talk. im kinda tired anyways

 

KARKAT: NO. WAIT. IT'S FINE.

 

KARKAT: WE CAN TALK.

 

KARKAT: ARE YOU OK?

 

Fuck. This fucking kid. For whatever reason, I started crying harder then, my chest starting to feel too tight and my vision almost too blurred for me to type. I had to take a minute and force myself to stop.

 

DAVE: yeah dude im fine

 

DAVE: dont worry about it

 

DAVE: i gotta go now but ill see you at school

 

KARKAT: DAVE...

 

DAVE: im *fine*

 

DAVE: i swear

 

DAVE: why would i lie to you

 

I set my phone down on my bedside table before I crushed it. God, my hands were shaking so hard. They always trembled whenever I got upset like this. I hated it.

 

I wiped my cheek again, sniffling softly as I reached for my bag. I fished out my pictures from today, trying to ground myself. Most of them were of Dirk, and a few of John. I picked up one of him smiling goofily at me, and noticed one stuck to the back. It was the one of Karkat I'd taken during lunch. In this light, his freckles stood out a lot better, and it just generally looked much better without the glaring fluorescent lights of the cafeteria.

 

I stared at it for a moment, feeling the pressure in my chest loosen a bit. Ok. That was better. I hauled myself up so that I could twist around and pin it on the wall above my bed, next to the one I'd taken of him on that first day. I laid back down and looked up at it before I closed my eyes and rolled over. It was only around 6, but I didn't care. I didn't want to have to deal with this day anymore.

 

“Everything would be fine.” Yeah fucking right.

 

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: heyyyyyyyy
> 
> ha so i dont really have a lot to say right now. im kinda tired rn. this is up. i dont think its been v long but i dont know tbh. whatever. please enjoy
> 
> as im posting this ((12/15/15)) im probably going to come back and edit this over the next couple days or something so if you see any glaring inconsistencies or think anythings just generally bad ((even tho none of u ever call my writing bad <333)) u can tell me and ill be sure to fix it.
> 
> alright
> 
> yeah
> 
> finals are terrible btw
> 
> see you next chapter


	7. Chapter 6

“I don't know, Terezi,” Karkat said to his ceiling. “He's just...” Karkat sighed and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose wearily. “I don’t know. He's annoying.”

 

“Is he?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Karkat growled, sitting up on his bed to look at his computer. “He's just-- He doesn't--” He sighed again. “I don't know. He doesn't seem to really understand what boundaries are, and for whatever reason he keeps taking pictures of me without my permission. Which isn't even the weirdest thing he's done yet. H-he kissed me a couple days ago.”

 

A small crackle ran over the image of Terezi's face on Karkat's computer screen as her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

 

“I mean, technically. It was on the cheek, but still.” Karkat ran a hand through his messy curls, his cheeks turning pink at the memory of it: how close he had been, how his hands had felt on his neck, how his lips had been slightly chapped but still incredibly soft. Karkat frowned, resting his hand against his forehead. “It's mostly the pictures, though.”

 

Terezi shrugged. “Well, that doesn't sound so bad. Maybe you're his _muse_ or something. Maybe he's planning an entire series devoted to your divine beauty.”

 

Karkat only scoffed, blushing a bit. “Very funny.”

 

“You never know!” Terezi grinned. “Maybe he's collecting pictures of you so he can jerk off to them.”

 

“Terezi. I'm not even sure his dick works.”

 

“Maybe it's some kind of complicated nipple fondling thing?”

 

“Terezi.”

 

She giggled loudly, flashing her teeth in her familiar toothy grin. “You never know.”

 

“Tez, I'm serious,” Karkat scolded. “I... I think I really like him. He's just...” Karkat closed his eyes and sighed. “I don't know. As much as I hate to say it, he's actually really cute and nice and I don't... I don't exactly know what to do.”

 

“Well, just try and get closer with him, I guess. That's the first step. I mean, you have his number, right?”

 

“Yeah, but...” Karkat pulled out his phone and skimmed over their last text conversation, frowning at how awkwardly it ended. “I don't know. We didn't really talk much at school today, and I've never been the one to text first.”

 

Terezi scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, c'mon, Karkat. You are _not_ getting all hung up over who's supposed to text who first. Just text him already.”

 

“I never said I was! I just... I don't want him to get the wrong idea, y'know?”

 

“What wrong idea? That you like him and want to become better friends with him?”

 

“That's not--” Karkat started, sitting up. He stopped, looking down at his phone and sighing softly. “I don't know. What if he's busy?”

 

“I dunno,” Terezi said with a shrug. “He might be. But you never know until you try. Ya never know, maybe it'll work out.”

 

Karkat looked back down at his phone again and sighed after a moment. “...Fine,” he mumbled. “But only because you keep making me.”

 

“ _Finally_ ,” Terezi said over exaggeratedly. “God, at this rate you're not gonna get with him ‘til senior year.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“If it helps a little, I’ll bet he likes you back,” Terezi offered.

 

Karkat snorted softly. “Yeah right.”

 

“No, really! I'm being serious.”

 

“C'mon, Tez. Get real. I'm not some fine piece of ass or something. I'm just...” Karkat searched for the right word and then sighed again when he couldn't think of anything. “I’m just me. I'm _really_ not that great. I mean, I've kinda been a total asshole to him so far.”

 

“It's only because you're in _looove_ with him,” Terezi said, sticking her tongue out.

 

“Terezi,” Karkat said warningly. He flopped back on his bed, staring up at his ceiling. “I've only known him three weeks anyways.”

 

“That's plenty of time for you to have developed a crush on him. I mean, I'd only known you a week and a half before I called you _my_ best friend, and look where we are now.”

 

“We were 4, Tez,” Karkat said, laughing a little bit. “That didn't count. We didn't even _really_ start hanging out as real friends until at least a month after that.”

 

“Well, the point still stands,” Terezi said quickly, waving it off. “You could totally become bestest friends with him super fast. Just text him already.”

 

Karkat scoffed and opened his mouth to respond. But before he could, he heard a door open and close and then Kankri shouting, “Karkat! Get your things. We're leaving in a few minutes.”

 

Karkat's face fell and he growled low in his throat, sitting up and frowning at the door.

 

“Was that Kankri? Is somethin’ up?” Terezi asked.

 

“Yeah. No, it's... It's fine.” Karkat stood up and scowled in the direction of the door. “Kankri's just been making me go see this dumb therapist, to help me, quote, ‘deal with all the stress of everything that's been happening lately.’” Karkat shook his head and sighed again. “I don't know. It's stupid. I hate her.”

 

“Oh. Are you ok?”

 

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Kankri's just paranoid I'm gonna slit my wrists or drink a bottle of bleach or something. But I'm not. I'm fine. Talk to you later?”

 

“Yeah. Oh, and don't forget to text Dave!”

 

“I won't. See you.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Karkat hung up the call and shut his laptop. He grabbed his jacket from his desk chair and went out into the living room. As he shrugged it on, he noticed Kankri busy doing something in the kitchen. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder at the coat rack and quietly stepped over. Keeping one eye on the kitchen, he reached into one of Cronus’s jackets and managed to fish out half a pack of cigarettes. As he shoved them into his pocket, Kankri had turned around.

 

“There you are. Are you ready?” Kankri asked, picking up his bag.

 

“I still don't get why I have to go,” Karkat muttered, pushing past his brother to go outside.

 

Kankri frowned a bit, and then followed him to the car. “It's because I want to make sure you're adjusting well in face of everything that's happening.”

 

“I already told you I'm fine.”

 

“I'm sure you are, Karkat, but it never hurts to have someone to talk to after the death of a loved one.”

 

“‘Loved one,’” Karkat muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

 

Kankri shot him a look, but didn't say anything. They pulled out of the driveway and went on their way to the therapist's office almost twenty minutes away. Karkat started getting antsy, bouncing his legs and putting his feet up on the dash.

 

“Put your feet down,” Kankri scolded.

 

“I'm not even sad or anything,” Karkat said. “I'm _fine_. We can go back home.”

 

“We're not going home. It doesn't matter if you're sad or not, you still need to talk to someone.”

 

Karkat scowled, turning away from Kankri and sliding his feet down. He stared out the window for the rest of the time, silently fuming in his head. Once they got there, Karkat reluctantly got out of the car and followed Kankri inside. They went up to the fourth floor, where Kankri checked them in and they waited in the dim half-full waiting room for fifteen minutes until a woman came out and called Karkat's name. He followed her into a different room, where a young black haired woman was waiting for him. When he sat, she smiled at him. He frowned.

 

“Hello, Karkat. How have you been?” she asked with a smile. “It's been a few weeks since I last saw you.”

 

“Fine,” he said flatly, crossing his arms and looking at the wall. “I'm fine. I don't need to be here.”

 

“How is school going?” she asked, ignoring what he'd said.

 

“Fine. I've only been there two and a half weeks.”

 

“How have you been adjusting? Do you have any friends yet?”

 

“A couple,” Karkat mumbled. “I guess. I don't know.”

 

The therapist nodded, looking down at her notepad. A long silence hung in the air as she wrote something down. Karkat looked around the small office, taking in the beige walls and gray carpet. The chair he was seated in was big and puffy and he started to sink into it if he sat back too much.

 

“Alright,” she said after what felt like an eternity. To Karkat, she added, “You seem upset.”

 

Karkat didn't say anything. He looked over at the wall and sighed sharply. After a few seconds, he muttered, "I don't need to be here.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes. I'm fine.”

 

“Your brother seems to think otherwise.”

 

“My brother can go suck a dick,” Karkat snapped. “He's just paranoid over nothing, and it's fucking annoying. I already _told_ him I don't need to be here. He thinks I'm depressed or whatever the fuck. But I'm not. I'm fine.”

 

“Language,” the therapist said warningly. “You're not necessarily here because you're depressed. But you have gone through a lot in the last few months, isn't that right?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“So, despite how you may think you feel, I agree that it is better for you to have someone to talk to. To help you deal with any unpleasant emotions that may arise, even if it's months after the fact.”

 

Karkat frowned. He crossed his arms over his chest and drummed his fingernails against his arm. After a few beats, he mumbled, “I'm fine. I swear.”

 

“You keep saying that, but I don't think that's true. Look.” She took off her glasses and looked at Karkat with softer, gentler eyes. “I know what happened with your father. Kankri told me--”

 

“Shut up,” Karkat suddenly snapped. At the mention of his father, something had stirred inside of him. “You don't know shit about what happened with my dad.”

 

“Yes, I do. Kankri--”

 

“Kankri doesn't know jack shit either. He wasn't there. He doesn't know what really happened. He didn't see what I saw. He doesn't have to--” Karkat suddenly shut his mouth when he realized how angrily he was speaking.

 

The therapist raised one of her eyebrows. “That don't seem like something someone who's ‘fine’ would say. You seem like you've got some kind of resentment towards your brother.”

 

“I... H-he's just a-annoying,” Karkat said softly, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I'm not..,.”

 

She shook her head. “This is sounds like it's more than him just being annoying.”

 

“I don't-- I-I...” he stammered weakly. He looked down, pressing his mouth into a straight line. “Why would I even be mad at him? It's not like he did anything.”

 

“I don't know. But that's what we're going to try to figure out.” The therapist checked her watch and closed her notepad. “We're done for today, but I would like to see you sometime in the next two or three weeks.”

 

“Yeah right,” Karkat muttered as he stood up and stalked out of the room. He didn't look at her as he left. Out in the waiting room, he almost didn't stop to wait for Kankri to get up, and he was already halfway to the elevator by the time Kankri caught up with him.

 

“Karkat, wait up. Slow down,” he said, just barely shoving his arm into the elevator before the door closed.

 

Karkat took a half step away from him when he entered, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his face stuck in a bitter scowl.

 

“How did it--?”

 

“Shut up,” Karkat muttered.

 

“Karkat,” Kankri said warningly.

 

“I told you I didn't need to go,” the other boy growled.

 

“Did something happen? What did you talk about?”

 

Karkat didn't reply. He only sighed sharply and turned further away from him.

 

In the car, Karkat's bad mood made the atmosphere tense and uncomfortable. As they pulled into the driveway, Kankri opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Look, Karkat, I'm sorry--” he started.

 

“I'm going for a walk,” Karkat interrupted, sliding out of the car and slamming the door. He started off down the street without another word to his brother, leaving him alone in the car.

 

Karkat didn't necessarily know where he was going, but he didn't stop walking until he found himself in a small wooded area near the center of their neighborhood. It was densely packed with foliage and plants, but after pushing his way through a tangle of weeds and vines, he found a tiny clearing with a short concrete bench half covered in leaf litter.

 

Karkat brushed most of the leaves off and then sat down, sighing sharply as he did. He put his head in his hands for a moment, trying to quell the violent anger and annoyance currently burning in his chest. He looked up, harshly carding a hand through his hair and then fishing through his pocket for the cigarettes he'd taken. He'd gotten into the habit back in New York, but it had only gotten worse once they'd moved down here. He lit up and then took a short drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could before he exhaled through his nose. He sighed softly in relief and reached up to rub the back of his neck wearily.

 

“Fuck...” he muttered, leaning his elbows on his knees. Thanks to Kankri and his stupid therapist, now the only thing he could think about was his dad, and that one faithful day. Everything that came before. Everything that came after. Everything leading up to him and them and now. He remembered the look on his dad's face, the one of sheer and utter terror and fear, before he...

 

Karkat pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, trying to get the memories out of his head. He took another long drag, focusing instead on the way his chest started to burn pleasurably when he held onto the smoke for long enough.

 

He was fine. He didn't need help like everyone thought he did. He would be fine on his own. He'd be torn up for a little while, yeah, but after a while he'd be ok. He didn't need some shrink trying to dredge up every single little thing his dad did or didn't do in his life or trying to nitpick apart all of his quote-unquote “daddy issues.” He was fine. He would be fine. He didn't need anyone. He'd already made it this far practically on his own.

 

Karkat took another drag, exhaling silently through his nose. He tapped a bit of ash off the tip the cigarette. He ran a hand through his hair again, sighing slowly.

 

He was gonna be fine.

 

Everything was gonna be fine.

 

* * * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> so
> 
> merry ((late!!)) christmas, for one ((or merry shitscram, if christmas aint your thing)) consider this my gift to all you lovely people who read this trash story on a regular basis. you are what keeps me alive ((not a euphemism)) so thanks.
> 
> this chapter, as im looking over it now, is actually a little on the short side so sorry, i guess, for such a crappy present. i dont know. im not super pleased with it right now ((like its certainly better than chapter 5 but its certainly no chapter 2 or anything)) but as usual i dont give enough shit nor have enough spoons to try and rewrite it for now. again, expect edits within the next few weeks ((speaking of, if you ever see anything that you a). dont like b). dont get c). think is wrong or d]. think could be better, dont hesitate to tell me!! im always open to feedback (but please keep it respectful im a sensitive kiddo i get upset easily) and will almost always get back to you sooner or later if you ever have any questions))
> 
> also!! thank you to everyone whos leaving comments!! i love those a whole lot and they really make my day so if youre in doubt leave one!! ill definitely appreciate it.
> 
> chapter 7 might((?)) be better than the last two. im not sure. to be honest ive been having some motivational issues lately with most of my writing so it might end up half assed as well. i hope it wont but if it does, oh well, i guess. itll probably be up some time in the second or third week of january, depending on school stuff ((also happy new year in advance!!))
> 
> yeah
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter ((and next year!!))


	8. Chapter 7

 

“Alright, now this may feel a little bit claustrophobic, but I need you to try to hold your breath and stay as still as possible for me, ok?”

 

I nodded from where I lay on the table, hoping the nurse in the other room could see me. There was a pause as she turned away from the speaker to turn on the MRI machine, and then the table began to tremble a bit as it thrummed to life. I felt myself slowly begin to roll backwards into the gaping tunnel of the machine. My surroundings went dark and even though I wasn't usually afraid of tight spaces, my breath caught in my throat and my palms started to tingle. I closed my eyes.

 

This, according to Dirk on the way over, was the start of the series of appointments and tests and monitoring that would take place over the next five or so months until my surgery. To make sure no unwanted or rapid growth was occurring, as Dr. Scratch had put it. Basically, they were gonna comb through every cell of my body twice a month for five months to make sure no other tumors had suddenly popped up as well, or to make sure that the one I already had didn't get too big or suddenly turn cancerous. All it really meant to me was even more doctor’s visits and poking and prodding and scanning than usual. I was understandably underwhelmed.

 

I let out a short exhale of breath as I opened my eyes, staring at the pale beige interior of the tube. They were giving me a full body scan this time, and it was taking for-fucking-ever. The tightness of the tunnel was starting to get to me, and I had to breathe as shallowly as possible. The nurse in the other room kept murmuring over the speaker for me to stay calm. I kind of wanted to punch her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I started moving in the opposite direction and I was out. I let out an involuntary sigh of relief as the nurses helped me into my wheelchair. It wasn't that I had much of a real problem with small spaces, but at the same time, the front seat of a car does get noticeably smaller when you push the dash forward, and 11-year-olds tend to be impressionable.

 

“Hey,” I said to Dirk as they wheeled me back to the examination room where they'd left him. “Looks like they're gonna have to amputate.”

 

“Don't make jokes like that in a hospital,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone.

 

“Fine. But when they looked at my legs, every single one of the nurses started salivating uncontrollably. I don't know if this is some kind of secret nursing school thing or what, and I'm not _saying_ they're gonna take ‘em, but if I come home with no legs, that's why. Is that better phrasing?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I sat back in my wheelchair, looming down and picking at the fabric of my gown. As we waited for the doctor to call us back, the silence in the room grew and grew until I could hardly breathe, so I quietly mumbled, “Fall risk.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Fall risk,” I said a little louder. “R-remember? When that kid in the next room over had a fall risk bracelet and I asked for one bec--”

 

“Because you said you couldn't stand on your own either,” Dirk finished with a small half smile. “Yeah. I remember. Didn't the nurse just give you the, uh, the socks or something?”

 

I cracked a smile myself. “Yeah. And then I told her I couldn't feel my toes so it was worthless and she got all scared until she read my chart and then she just got mad at me.”

 

Dirk chuckled a little to himself. “Yeah. That was a riot.” He was quiet for a moment. “That... That was the first funny thing you'd said that trip. it was when I knew you were gonna be ok.”

 

“Yeah.” I could feel the smile start to falter on my face as the silence returned and my mind went back to the obvious. I clenched my jaw a bit, tugging on the edge of a hangnail as I searched for the right words. “W... What do think the, um... MRI’s gonna find?”

 

“Nothing, I'd hope. It's just a routine thing. You know that.”

 

“Well, y-yeah, I know, but... what if they still find something? What if it's...”

 

“Hey, Dave,” Dirk said gently. “Quit worrying. You're gonna be fine. There's not gonna be anything on that scan.”

 

I knit my eyebrows together, wanting to argue but then hesitating and deciding against it. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was just overreacting. This _was_ just a check-up after all. Everything would be fine. I'd be fine. Right?

 

When the nurse finally called us into the other room, I felt my heart lurch fearfully in my chest. Dirk glanced down at me and ruffled a hand through my hair reassuringly. I only looked up at him, too stressed to try and look happy. I let him wheel me over to the room full of monitors. On them were several boxes filled with misshaped grey and black blobs and smears. These were supposed to be pictures of my body? Dr. Scratch was seated in front of one of the monitors, squinting at it, his eyebrows knit together. He murmured something to the nurse beside him and pointed to something before he noticed us.

 

“Oh. Hello, you two,” he said politely, nodding in our direction. “As you can see, these are the pictures from your MRI. We've been able to go over them a little and so far everything looks much better than we expected. We were able to confidently  confirm that this is indeed a tumor we're dealing with here. And as we had hoped, we didn't find any evidence of tumor growth anywhere else in your body, which is good because local tumors are usually much easier to treat.”

 

I nodded, carefully watching his face. “What else?” There was something off about him.

 

Dr. Scratch gave me a small tight lipped smile. “Perceptive as always, I see,” he murmured. He exhaled softly and sat back in his chair. “Well... upon further inspection, we... did notice a very slight margin of growth on this scan relative to your previous x-rays. Probably a few millimeters or so.”

 

“It grew?” I asked, my chest tightening in fear a bit.

 

“Technically, yes, it has increased in diameter. However, we all agree that it is not by a large enough margin for it to be of significant concern to us, even more so considering it's taken almost a month for it to grow as much as it has. If it continues growing at this rate, it shouldn't cause any real problems.”

 

I didn't say anything back. I only stared at him, too startled and confused to think of the right words. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a soft whimper. I pressed my mouth into a straight line, staring hard at the ground, trying to bite back the urge to scream at him. I could tell Dirk was a little shaken as well. I heard his shoulder crack as he shifted, probably to start kneading it the way he always did when he was nervous.

 

“It's... harmless? It's not gonna cause any problems? Right?”

 

“Mm hmm,” Dr. Scratch said gently. “It shouldn't. Not at this rate. Everything's going to be fine. I assure you.”

 

Dirk was quiet for a moment. When I looked up at him, his eyebrows were drawn together and his mouth was pressed into a micro-frown. But it only lasted a moment before he forced it into a friendly smile. “Alright. Good. Thank you.”

 

“It's no problem. But if you don’t mind I'd like to have a quick talk with you in private.”

 

“Oh. Of course. Uh...” Dirk glanced down at me. “Go out and get redressed. I'll be out in a second.”

 

I went, not wanting to argue. I could tell it was something important, and I was already dreading having to talk to Dirk about it later. Once I'd gotten my clothes and stuff, I joined Dirk back out in the lobby. His face was the same for the most part, but his eyebrows were knit together like he was thinking about something. When he saw me, he smiled a little and nodded towards the door.

 

In the car, he was quiet for a while. About halfway home, he said, “So, uh, I bet you're kinda wondering what Dr. Scratch and I were talking about earlier.”

 

“Yeah, a little,” I murmured, leaning my arm against the window.

 

“It wasn't anything bad. We were just-- _He_ was just thinking, and I agreed, that maybe you should... uh, start going back to therapy soon. Maybe.”

 

“What?” I said, suddenly alert.

 

“I know. I know. It sounds bad. But it's just, Dr. Scratch and I were a bit concerned about how the stress of all of this might be affecting you--”

 

“Why? I'm fine.”

 

“I know, but he brought up everything that happened... before, and how new stressors can can sometimes lead to falling back into old coping habits--”

 

“Coping habits? I haven't been doing _anything_. Much less trying to ‘cope,’ because I'm _fine_.”

 

Dirk sighed. “I'm sure you are, but just in case, I think w--”

 

“So you want me to start going to a shrink and talking about problems that I don't have? Is that it?”

 

“Dave, that's not what I--

 

“All because you're afraid I'm gonna start doing what I did last time?”

 

“Dave, don't--”

 

“That was, what, 3, almost 4 years ago?” I continued, ignoring him. “Why are you still so nervous for me? Why can't you just let it go? It was in the past, and I'm fine now.”

 

“Because _that_ is not the type of thing you just ‘let go,’ Dave,” Dirk said sternly. “Ok? It was a very serious thing that you did. You could have...” He trailed off and sighed, shaking his head.

 

“I could have what?” I muttered. I was too riled up to back off now.

 

“You know what I mean,” he said tiredly.

 

“No. Say it. I dare you. I could have what?”

 

Dirk glanced over at me, his face drawn in tense anger. “You could have died,” he said softly.

 

“Exactly. I _could_ have. But I didn't,” I said flatly, looking back out the window.

 

“But you should have. That's the point. Just because we got lucky once doesn't mean we will again. That's why we're supposed to make sure you don't start regressing back into all that shit and shit like that doesn't happen again, in case our luck runs out.”

 

I was silent, too angry to think of anything to say. “I'm not going back to therapy,” I said after a beat of tense silence.

 

“Fine. I won't force you,” he said with a sigh. “Since you want to be difficult. But the second I see anything--”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I muttered under my breath.

 

“Hey. Watch your fuckin’ attitude.”

 

I rolled my eyes at him and sighed loudly, trying not to scream at him. Instead, I pulled out my phone and send John a quick text.

 

DAVE: hey you wanna come over

 

He replied a minute later.

 

JOHN: sure man. whats up?

 

DAVE: nah nothing i just wanna hang

 

DAVE: havent seen you in a hot second

 

JOHN: oh. well then sure!

 

DAVE: sweet

 

DAVE: bring video games

 

“John’s coming over,” I said, locking my phone and shoving into my jacket pocket.

 

Dirk shot a sharp glare at me out of the corner of his eye. We both knew I was supposed to ask first before anyone came over. He let out a soft sigh, and said, “When?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

“Dave,” he said warningly.

 

“Probably around 5 or something. I don't know.”

 

“Ok. Fine.”

 

The rest of the ride was as tense and uncomfortable as possible, and I couldn't wait to get out of the car. As soon as we got inside, I went and locked myself in my room and Dirk in his. I laid on my bed silently fuming as I waited for John to arrive. I didn't want therapy. Hell, I didn't even _need_ therapy. I was fine. It wasn't like I was back to carving up my legs or downing 10 shots of vodka every day. I wasn't gonna fall back into that hell. I was gonna get out of this ok. I didn't need anyone's help. Why didn't they see that?

 

My phone buzzed noisily on my side table. It was John. I sat up and hauled myself back into my wheelchair and went to go open the door for him. He was waiting there, Doritos and video games in hand just as I'd asked him.

 

I gave him a small half smile as I reached up to fist bump him. “‘Sup, Egdork?”

 

He fist bumped me back as he entered. “Nothing much. I see your strike against your best bro’s finally over? We haven't been able to hang out in forever.”

 

“Dude, c’mon, I told you. That wasn't my fault. I've just been busy the past few weeks.”

 

“Too busy to hang out with the friend you've known since kindergarten?” John said pointedly as he walked into the kitchen and started searching through the fridge.

 

“Wow. Accusing me of abandoning you and then stealing my food?” I put a hand over my chest. “I'm hurt, John. Really.”

 

“Consider it payback,” he said over his shoulder, shooting me a sly grin. He came back out, munching on a handful of strawberries. “Hey, where's Dirk? Isn't he usually home by now?”

 

“Oh. Yeah. He's just off sulking in his room. Don't worry about him.” Behind my hand, I whispered, “You know how they get at this age.”

 

John giggled softly, shaking his head at me. “You're ridiculous.”

 

“You're no treasure yourself. So, we gonna play these games or what? I wanna see whether or not I can still wipe the floor with you even after all these weeks.”

 

“Oh hell no,” John said with a grin. “I've been practicing. There's no way I'm losing to you this time.”

 

I smirked. “You sure? Last I remember, you got stuck behind a wall for twenty minutes and died five times in a row, last we played,” I said, reaching over to grab the video games from where John had set them down.

 

John scoffed as he followed me into the living room. “That was _one_ time like three months ago, and I was drunk. That doesn't count.”

 

“Yeah, well I was just as wasted, and I still creamed your ass. My point still stands.”

 

John flopped back on the couch and chucked a pillow at my head. “Shut up.”

 

“Why don't you come down here and make me?” I said playfully as I sat on the ground in front of him, craning my neck back to wiggle my eyebrows at him.

 

“I would, but you're already dating Karkat,” John replied matter-of-factly.

 

“We're not dating.” A beat of silence as what he said sunk in. “What? Wait, back up, what?”

 

“You think I haven't seen the way you stare at him?” John said with a soft chuckle as he stood to go put the game in the console. “I know you think I'm an idiot, but I'm not _that_ stupid. Even I can see you two were practically made for each other. You guys are like an old married couple already.”

 

I felt my cheeks tingle as I blushed. “W... What?”

 

“Karkat? The new kid? The one you've been practically drooling over since he got here?” John said slowly. “I know your memory's bad, but it's not _that_ bad.”

 

“No, I know. But I-I... Uh... Oh! W-we never _said_ he liked me back, though. How can we be made for each other if it's all one-sided?” I countered weakly.

 

“Oh, c’mon, Dave,” John said, draping himself back over the couch and tossing me a controller. “Now _you're_ starting to sound like the real idiot here. Of course he likes you! I mean, you're like the only person he ever talks to, and 90% of the times I ever see him, he's with you. I bet he's in _looove_ with you.” John leaned forward to nudge the back of my shoulder with his elbow.

 

“Haha, very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes as I pushed him off me. But secretly, I could feel the tips of my ears burning fiercely. Could Karkat really like me back? _Did_ he?

 

“Just make sure I'm the best man at your guys’ wedding,” John teased before laying back. “So we gonna play this or not?”

 

“Totally,” I smirked, shaking the thoughts of Karkat from my head. “Prepare to have your ass handed to you, Egbert.”

 

“In your dreams, Strider.”

 

As we played, my mind stayed on Karkat. I hadn't talked to him in a little bit. And I'd made sure it didn't seem like I was too interested in him or anything. But if _John_ could tell, then there was almost no way Karkat couldn't. But he'd never said anything about it either. We were still pretty new friends, though, and half of the time I couldn't tell whether or not he was pissed, so even if he had been dropping subtle hints it wasn't like I'd be able to pick up on them. And even more pressingly, even if the feelings _were_ mutual, could I even date him? Even though we were technically “friends,” he still kinda hated me, and then there was the whole... other thing. Despite what I'd told Dirk, I could feel myself sliding back to where I was all those years ago. Getting destructive and dangerous and numb again. I didn't want to hurt him if I did get back that far. He didn't deserve that.

 

I glanced over at John, his lanky beanpole of a body sprawled across the entire couch, face scrunched up tight in concentration, bright blue eyes glued to the TV. The corners of his mouth were stained red from the strawberries he'd eaten and he was gnawing absentmindedly his bottom lip, the same way he did when he was a kid. He hadn't deserved it either, what I did to him. How I hurt him. And all because I was too numb to care.

 

“Dave? Hello? You alright?”

 

John’s voice shook me from my trace. His eyes were on me now, a look of mild confusion on his face.

 

“You've been staring into space for like five minutes. You alright?”

 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” I mumbled, looking away, my cheeks burning dully. “I was just...” I looked down at the controller in my hands, mulling over something in my head. I sighed softly before I looked back over at him. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

 

“Yeah. Sure,” John said, pausing the game and propping himself up in an elbow. “What's up?”

 

“I... um...” I flicked my eyes down to my lap and turned away from him. “I-I've... uh...”

 

John’s eyebrows knit together a bit and his face fell a bit. “What's wrong?”

 

“Uh...” I looked back over at him, and then hesitated. “It... It, uh…” After a moment, I sighed softly. “I-it's nothing. Never mind.”

 

“Are you sure? You sound kinda upset... Is everything ok?” John asked softly.

 

“Yeah. Don't worry it. I'm fine.” I turned back around and unpaused the game. “You better start playing. There's a huge mob of zombies right behind you.”

 

John was silent for a moment but after a few moments I heard him lay back down and pick up his controller. For the rest of the time that we played, I felt tense and uncomfortable. I didn't know why I'd suddenly wanted to tell him about the tumor. I didn't need to, and I hadn't been planning to in the first place. But not that I hadn't, I felt dirty. Ashamed, almost. Like I'd lied to him or something. But I hadn't. He didn't necessarily _need_ to know about the tumor, and I still had five months to tell him anyways. It wasn't worth getting him all worked up over.

 

I let John win the game we were playing then. All of a sudden I was tired and I didn't feel up to it. After that, we went into my room to talk. As we passed Dirk's room, I glanced over at the door, seething a bit internally. When we got in, John stopped in the doorway and looked around my room, taking in all the polaroids I'd put up.

 

“Wow. Haven't been in here in a while. Do you hang up every picture you take?” he asked over his shoulder

 

“Yeah, sometimes, but can you move first?” I pushed at the backs of his legs. “Kid in a wheelchair here”

 

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” John stepped to the side so I could enter as well and then wandered over to my bed to look at the pictures there. As I hoisted myself up onto the bed, he leaned over and squinted at one in particular. After a second, he smirked a little and reached over to take it down.

 

“Yo, dude, what the fuck?” I started.

 

“This one’s of Karkat, right?”

 

“I-- What? Uh.” I took it from him. It was the one I'd put up over my headboard; the one from his first day. “Yeah...” I murmured. “From a couple weeks ago.”

 

“So you still think you can convince me you don't like him?” John said playfully, sitting on the bed beside me.

 

“I never said I didn't like him. I just...” I looked at the picture once more, and then sighed. “I don't know if I want to try and get with him. I mean, he's... Just... Relationships are...” I trailed off and shook my head, pulling my legs up onto the bed so I could lie down. “I dunno. I guess I've kinda gotten used to being single.”

 

“Dave, I'm getting really tired of all these shitty excuses, y’know,” John murmured, lying down as well and resting his legs on top of mine. “You'd be fine. It's not like you haven't done it about a million times.”

 

“Hey,” I said, playfully slapping his arm. “Since when do you even care this much about my love life anyways?”

 

“I don't know, I just-- I don't wanna watch you to pass up on an opportunity like this.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like... Knowing that the person you like likes you back--”

 

“We never agreed on that,” I added.

 

“Just, like... an opportunity to be... happy, I guess.”

 

 _Happy?_ I breathed a soft, uncomfortable chuckle. “Happy? What're you talking about? I _am_ happy. Is this not the life of a content, well-adjusted person?” I asked, sweeping my arm out to gesture towards the entire room. “Look at all this darkness and dust. Most of these pictures haven't seen the light of day in months. I think I'm perfectly fine.”

 

“Dave,” John giggled.

 

“No, look! It fucking stinks in here. Haven't opened a window in here in months. And these jeans? _Weeks_ old,” I continued. “And I mean, I made my first new friend in like a year and he already hates my guts. See? I'm fucking _fantastic_.”

 

“Dave, you know what I meant,” John said between laughs.

 

“Here, fine, if it turns out that Karkat does like me-- _if--_ then we'll talk. But until then, no promises.”

 

“Dude, he likes you. Like, a lot. I can tell when people like each other, and he practically wants to have your babies.”

 

I laughed, reaching over to push his shoulder gently. “Dude, what the fuck?”

 

John giggled himself. “He's in _loooove_ with you, just like you're in _loooove_ with him.” He laughed again as I mocked pushing him off the bed. “What? It's true! I bet you guys are gonna get married and have a million babies.”

 

I snorted. “Oh yeah? Even though we're two guys with one working penis between us?”

 

“You can always adopt,” John offered. As he spoke, we heard something buzz softly.

 

“I don't know how adoption works, but I don't think they'd let us take a million kids,” I murmured as John pulled out his phone. A second later, I heard him groan softly.

 

“What's up?” I asked as he sat up.

 

“It's my dad,” John said flatly.

 

I groaned softly. “Damn. Really?”

 

“Mm hmm. He says I have to get home now,” John said flatly. As he texted him back he muttered, “I haven't even been out that long. What's his deal?”

 

“Fuckin’ lame,” I murmured, draping my arm over my eyes.

 

“Yeah.” John stood up and stretched a bit and then sighed. “Sorry. See you tomorrow?”

 

“If I don't get more crippled by then, yeah. See you.”

 

“Bye.”

 

I watched him leave and then let myself relax once I heard the front door shut. I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. Great. Now I was all alone again, with no distractions. I stared up at my ceiling, a slightly dingy beige color with the occasional water stain. As the seconds ticked on, I could feel myself coming down from the high of having John there, the noise and static suddenly gone, leaving hollow empty silence in my head. I closed my eyes and sighed softly again. Fuckin’ great.

 

I looked over at my bedside table, where John had set down the picture of Karkat. I examined it, taking in the look on his face as well as his features again. I had to tell him too. Eventually. We'd only been friends a month. This wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to have that done to him. He didn't deserve all the worry and the fear. Especially not if he--

 

I sat up. Not if he what? Not if he liked me? As if. It'd only been three weeks and he still got pissed at me nearly every day. Sure, it kinda seemed like he really preferred me over anyone else in my friend group, and we'd kinda started forming some semblance of an inside joke, but even still all the meant was we were friends. It didn't guarantee that he wanted to date me.

 

I maneuvered myself to the edge of my bed so I could stretch to reach my dresser. The beers would be warm and hard to force down, but it wasn't like I cared. I needed a drink or two.

 

_And even if Karkat did like you, why would he ever want you? Especially not when you're like this. Drinking stolen beer at 6:30?_

 

“Shut up,” I muttered, cracking open the first one and taking a long sip. I grimaced at the taste. God. And I wouldn't even be able to get anything more than buzzed off of two. I rolled my eyes, but took another swig regardless. I pulled out my phone, deciding to text Karkat.

 

DAVE: hey man you there

 

I had to wait a bit before he replied.

 

KARKAT: YEAH. SORRY. I WAS DOING SOMETHING WITH MY BROTHER

 

KARKAT: WHAT'S UP?

 

DAVE: nothin much

 

DAVE: just kinda wanted to talk

 

KARKAT: OH.

 

KARKAT: HEY THAT REMINDS ME. WHAT WAS THAT WHOLE THING A COUPLE WEEKS AGO?

 

DAVE: what thing

 

KARKAT: THE THING WHERE YOU TEXTED ME SOUNDING LIKE A 40 YEAR OLD GOING THROUGH A NOSTALGIC CRISIS

 

DAVE: oh yeah that thing

 

KARKAT: WHAT WAS THAT?

 

DAVE: oh nothing

 

DAVE: i was just

 

DAVE: kinda sad or whatever

 

DAVE: i just wanted a distraction yknow

 

KARKAT: OH. ARE YOU OK NOW?

 

DAVE: yeah man dont worry

 

DAVE: that was a onetime thing it doesnt happen very often

 

DAVE: if it makes you feel better i wont tell you when im sad anymore

 

KARKAT: NO THAT'S NOT THE PROBLEM

 

KARKAT: I JUST

 

KARKAT: I DON'T KNOW I WAS KINDA WORRIED ABOUT YOU

 

KARKAT: THAT'S ALL

 

DAVE: well dont be

 

DAVE: im fine i swear

 

I took another sip of my beer. I was on to my second one by now. _How ironic._

 

DAVE: now i get to ask you a question

 

KARKAT: UGH. FINE. WHAT IS IT?

 

DAVE: do you like me

 

He didn't respond immediately. It was nearly 10 minutes before my phone buzzed.

 

KARKAT: UM

 

KARKAT: YEAH? I GUESS SO? I DON'T KNOW. WHY?

 

DAVE: no i mean like do you *like* me

 

DAVE: like

 

DAVE: *like me* like me

 

KARKAT: DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?

 

KARKAT: YOU SOUND LIKE A FUCKING FIRST GRADER

 

KARKAT: WHY DOES IT MATTER?

 

DAVE: answer the question

 

KARKAT: NO

 

DAVE: if you dont answer im gonna assume its a yes

 

KARKAT: THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID

 

KARKAT: I JUST

 

KARKAT: I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS NOW

 

DAVE: does that mean i should start sending out the wedding invitations now

 

KARKAT: FUCK YOU

 

DAVE: gladly

 

KARKAT: YOU KNOW WHAT I FUCKING MEAN YOU FUCKING ASSWIPE

 

KARKAT: I HAVE TO GO

 

DAVE: yknow you not answering isnt really helping your case

 

KARKAT: FUCK OFF

 

After that, he stopped replying. I tossed my phone onto my bed, feeling a tiny bit better. I swirled the last dregs of my beer around in the can and then tossed it back, crumpling it and stashing it just as I heard a knock at my door. I groaned slightly, knowing what was coming next.

 

“Come in.”

 

Sure enough, Dirk cracked open the door and peeked his head in. When he met my eyes, he came the rest of the way in and sat in my desk chair.

 

“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

 

“Hey.”

 

“So. Uh.” He looked down and sighed softly. “I think we should... talk.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I'm sorry, first of all. It wasn't my place to try and force you back into therapy. I know it was a little... difficult for you last time, so I get why you don't want to go back.”

 

“Not to mention there actually isn't anything wrong with me,” I added. “I'm fine.”

 

“You keep saying that. And I know. But even if you think you are now, there's no real guarantee that you'll still be in five months.”

 

“Why are you so convinced that I'm gonna relapse anyways?” I asked suddenly. “I mean, I haven't before.”

 

“No. Not all the way. Not yet. But there's a first time for everything.” He looked up at me, his face serious and almost cold. “But I know you. I know how you deal with stress. You internalize everything, and I used to too, but it's not healthy.”

 

I tightened my jaw, suddenly irritated. This was stupid. I didn't fucking need anything. “I'm not going back,” I said tightly. “I don't care what you or Dr. Scratch think. I'm fine. I don't need anyone's help. I'm not gonna relapse, and I'm not gonna have a breakdown. Ok?”

 

Dirk only looked at me, his face drawn. He looked me up and down once and then exhaled softly. “I'm not gonna make you go back. I can tell it won't help. Not at this point, and not with your attitude. But you're also not gonna bury everything like you did before. You're going to come to me when you feel upset or when you need to talk. Alright?”

 

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever.” I crossed my arms, rubbing at my temple with one hand. “Can you get out of my room now?”

 

“Fine.” Dirk finally stood and left, leaving me by myself again.

 

I looked over to my left, where I'd hidden the two crushed beer cans under the sheets. I hadn't exactly lied to Dirk. I _did_ think I was alright, for the most part, and I most certainly didn't need to go back to therapy. It wasn't like this was a full-on total backslide or anything. I wasn't out partying every weekend or taking shots with total strangers like I was before. I was just... relieving some stress. It was fine. Everything was fine. I was gonna be fine.

 

I looked down at my legs, at my thigh where they'd said the tumor was. I brushed my hand over the spot, feeling the pattern of the thick bumpy scars there beneath my fingers. We still didn't know whether or not it was cancer, and it was what kind and how fast it would kill me. Not to mention it was so close to one of my main arteries the surgery was now gonna be classified as “risky” and would be a death sentence if it turned out to be cancer.

 

I tipped my head back so that I was looking up at the ceiling, balling my hands into fists. I closing my eyes.

 

Yeah. Everything was gonna be fucking golden.

 

* * * * *

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah!!! hi!!!!!
> 
> i am so sorry!!!!!! i havent been active in forever and ive taken a fuckin eternity to update and aghh ive just been really really shitty im so so sorry
> 
> i just ran into a huge wall of school((?)) related writers block ((i could not write anything good))that took like a month to get out of and it was really stressing me out and i had to take a break or else i was gonna end up scraping the story so im actually kinda glad i took a little time off
> 
> however!! my little vacations over now and im back in the swing of things!! no more month long gaps in the update schedule ((probably like 2-3 weeks)) i will get back on this and ill finish it and itll be fuckin great
> 
> but anyways!! chapter 7s here finally!! i really really hope you like it i spent awhile on it ((like a month and a half HA)) and i personally think its actually pretty good!!
> 
> shits gonna start going down soon, probably. or at the very least, the storyll start to pick up a little more. its gonna be great. i hope you stick around.
> 
> yeah
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter


	9. Chapter 9

_ “Dad?” _

_ Karkat looked around in confusion, the air too thick with dust and smoke for him to see farther than a few feet. He saw a figure in the distance, jet-black, silhouetted against the unknown white light on the horizon. When Karkat squinted, something about it felt familiar to him. Like it was someone he'd seen before. Someone he knew. Someone he loved. _

_ “Dad?” Karkat found himself whispering involuntarily. Was that his father? He couldn't tell from this far away, but something about the figure told him that it was. _

_ Karkat took a hesitant half step towards the figure, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He started off walking, all the while keeping his eyes on the horizon. The figure turned into a man, medium height, average stocky build, raven black hair that would have been a giant wavy mess had it not been pulled back in a-- _

_ Karkat faltered for a moment, his foot catching on something invisible and him nearly falling to his knees. He caught himself at the last second, bumping into a person who'd appeared out of thin air. Yes. That was his dad. That was him. He hadn't seen him in what felt like years, but he knew his father, and that was him standing there. Karkat started walking faster, pushing past people who were appearing out of nowhere, his gaze still glued onto his father’s back. He had to get to him. He just had to. Suddenly, he was pushing through a sea of stubborn people who wouldn't move at all. He was starting to get frustrated, shoving and elbowing his way through. He was so close to his dad, so close him seeing him and finally noticing him. _

_ Then he saw the gun. _

_ Fear stabbed through him, freezing him in place. An unknown hand now had a gun pressed into his father’s face, barely three inches from his nose. He didn't know who had the gun or what they were talking about, but terror struck through Karkat as he realized what was about to happen. _

_ “No...” he breathed. “No…” _

_ All at once, everyone around him saw the gun as well and started rushing away. Karkat himself was pushed back a little ways, too stunned to think to move. It was only when someone ran into his shoulder that he snapped into reality. _

_ “Dad!” he screamed, struggling to fight his way through the panicked throng of people stampeding in the opposite direction. He kept being swept back, and he was losing sight of his dad. Someone hit his shoulder hard and he fell to the ground, rolling over at the last second and narrowly avoiding being trampled to death. When he got back up again, the gun was still there pointed at his dad. The person holding it seemed angry now, waving it around wildly and repeated jabbing it into his chest for emphasis on whatever they were shouting about. _

_ “Dad!” Karkat screamed, his voice cracking in his desperation. “Da--” _

_ A gunshot rang out through the air. _

“No!”

Karkat awoke with a jolt, his eyes flying open and his hand gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He sat up sharply, his heart still beating hard and his ears still ringing. He looked around his pitch-black room, starting to calm down a bit. He put his face in his hands, groaning loudly in annoyance. He'd thought the nightmares had already stopped. He hadn't had one in almost three weeks.

When Karkat turned to his bedside table to grope for his phone in the darkness, it told him it was only 4:57. Karkat scowled and tossed his phone to the end of his bed and then drew his knees to his chest. He'd only gotten about three hours of sleep, and there was no way he was gonna calm down soon enough to get any more before his alarm rang at 6. He put his head in his knees and growled softly.

“Fuck...” he murmured before standing up and stretching. Whatever. He grabbed one of his jackets from a pile of boxes and slid on a pair of clean-ish sweatpants and padded out into the living room. He shivered in the cold of the house this early. Their air conditioning always went haywire during the night and turned it into a fucking tundra. It was probably the coldest place he'd been since they got to Texas.

Karkat stepped into his sneakers and then slid open the back door. He stepped outside and after making sure it was shut tightly pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out and lit up, taking long drag after he did. Might as well have his morning smoke early.

Karkat looked up at the sky, exhaling smoke from his nose. It was still dark out, a few of the fading stars lingering. The moon was slowly sinking below the horizon, where light grey was just starting to leech into the inky blackness. The air was thick and cool and just beyond the porch light he could see that it was still raining a little. Again.

Karkat put the cigarette back between his lips, puffing on it angrily. His mind went back to his nightmare, how real it had felt. It was one of three he'd been cycling through for the past two months. This one was the most common, and the worst in his opinion, because it was just a hyped up memory and always ended with a gunshot, which always startled him awake with pure terror. Before they'd moved, he'd gotten into the habit of staying up as late as possible just in case he had it again. It never helped; if anything it only made the nightmares even more vivid. That had freaked the fuck out of Kankri, who then dragged him to about a million different sleep therapists until he insisted he was fine.

Karkat exhaled another lungful of smoke. That was part of why he was so insistent that Karkat start up therapy here, too. But it didn't matter how much Kankri cared, he wasn't going back. He'd already suffered enough back in New York. If he wanted to throw away $100 a session, so be it. It wasn't like he gave half a shit.

Karkat sighed softly as he took another short drag. Whatever. It was what it was. He couldn't change a thing even if he wanted to. As the sky slowly started to turn a light grey, Karkat finished his cigarette and had another one and a half before he went back inside to start getting ready. He stepped off the porch for a moment, pushing the toe of his sneaker into the rain-softened earth. He dropped the snuffed out butts into the shallow hole and covered them. No need to let Kankri find and freak out about this as well.

Back inside, Karkat changed his shirt and his pants, but kept on his sweater. It was one of his favorites as well as one of his oldest, and it still kinda smelled like their old house. He pressed his nose into his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent and relishing in the flood of memories it brought back. God, if only.

During the ten-minute drive to the high school, Karkat kept nodding off, almost hitting his head against the window once or twice. Kankri noticed, giving him a concerned side glance each time he struggled to catch his head before it hit the headrest.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You seem more tired than usual. Did you sleep well last night?”

“I'm fine,” Karkat murmured. “I'm just... tired.”

“Are you sure? What time did you go to sleep?”

“I dunno. Like, midnight,” he said groggily. Under his breath, he mumbled, “Or two.”

“ _ Karkat _ .”

“What? I'm fine. I don't need as much sleep as you do. I'm fine.”

Kankri shot stern glance at him, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “You really should get more sleep. It's not healthy to deprive yourself.”

“I know.”

Kankri didn't say anything else as they pulled into the school’s parking lot. He looked Karkat up and down once as he got out of the car, and before he shut the door, he blurted out, “Stay safe.”

“I will,” Karkat mumbled, slinging his backpack over one of his shoulders. He quickly disappeared into the throng of students flowing towards the front doors, being pushed and shoved a bit as he went. God. Why did all high school students act like they were in a fucking angry mob?

Briefly, an image of a blur of legs and feet flashed before his eyes. He faltered a bit, his feet nearly tripping over each other. He just managed to catch himself before he stumbled. He ran into someone's backpack and muttered a soft “sorry” as he tried to right himself. Not fucking now. He'd already had his sleep ripped away from him by the nightmare. He didn't need flashbacks to deal with as well.

By the time Karkat got inside, he was silently fuming, his bad mood only worsened. In fact, he almost walked past Dave at their usual spot, he was so distracted.

“Hey,” Dave called after him. “Karkat? Where are you going? Your boyfriend’s back here.”

“We're not dating,” Karkat said automatically as he back tracked to where Dave was sitting.

“Might as well be,” Dave said with a shrug. “What's up? You seem distracted.”

“No, I'm just tired,” Karkat said, leaning back against the wall.

“How many hours?”

“Like two and a half.”

Dave chuckled a bit. “Wow. Insomniac much?”

“It wasn't my fault,” Karkat said flatly. “I stayed up late and then I just happened have a nightmare.”

“Ooh, a nightmare. What about? Coming to school naked? Falling to your death? Making out wi--”

“None of your business. It's not like it was that bad, anyways,” Karkat said, crossing his arms over his chest. He thought back to the panic, the fear he'd felt as he woke up. He reached one hand up to tug on his earlobe.

“If you insist.” The bell rang shrilly through the hallway, and the two of them started towards their first period class.

“What about you? How'd you sleep?” Karkat asked, glancing over at him from the corner of his eye.

“Me? I slept like a fuckin’ rock. It's hard to sleep restlessly when you can't move half your body.” Dave smirked a little. “I had a dream about you.”

Karkat started slightly, his cheeks turning pink. “Really?”

“Yeah. It was pretty cool. We were an old married couple, and we lived in this nice house in a nice whitewashed plastic-y suburb, with all one million of the babies we had together. You were pregnant with our one million and first. You drove a minivan. It was pretty great.”

Karkat’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What the fuck?”

“Simply a vision of our future, I suppose,” Dave said with a shrug. “Not the worst fate that could befall us.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you joking?”

“No! I'm  _ completely _ serious. We were about to have one million and one kids.”

Karkat stopped outside their classroom, staring at Dave skeptically. He looked him up and down and frowned. “You're fucking weird,” he muttered as he walked inside.

“I try my hardest,” Dave said, following him in as well.

Throughout the first few periods of the day, Karkat found himself constantly nodding off and startling himself back awake. During Geometry, as the teacher babbled on about cosines, Karkat yawned, rubbing at his temples. He laid his head down on his arms, deciding to just close his eyes for a minute.

_ He was in a dark room, black and greys swirling in the distance and smoke pooling around his feet. He could hardly see two feet in front of him and the smoke smelled like fire. He whipped his head around. He was looking for someone. He didn't know who. He opened his mouth to call out to them, when a deafening gunshot rang through the room-- _

Karkat woke up with a start, his knee jerking and banging against the bottom of his desk, knocking his phone and his calculator to the ground. The people around him turned at the sound, and even the teacher faltered a bit in her monologue.

“Mr. Vantas,” she said warningly, “I understand you may be tired, but please try to pay attention. This is going to be on the test next week.”

“Sorry,” Karkat mumbled, putting his forehead in his hand. When the teacher had turned back to the lesson, he ran his hand through his hair and groaned softly to himself, putting his forehead down on the desk. He was getting tired of all these random nightmares. As he tried to get back to his work, he could still feel his ears ringing faintly. After class, after the teacher held him for a few minutes to lecture him on the importance of “paying attention” and “getting enough sleep,” he found himself grateful to finally be able to go to lunch. Dave was already waiting for him at the half full table when he got to the cafeteria.

“The prince finally arrives,” Dave murmured as he sat down, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “Kinda thought you were dead for a minute.”

“I fell asleep during math, and my teacher thought yelling at me for three minutes would fixed my sleep schedule,” Karkat muttered, putting his head down on the table.

“Well, two and a half hours isn't exactly what  _ most  _ experts would recommend, but...”

“I already told you, it wasn't my fault. I had a nightmare.”

“Aww,” Dave said sweetly. “KitKat had a bad dream.”

“Fuck you.”

“If you're offering.”

Karkat shot a sharp glare in Dave direction and stuck out his tongue. As Dave chuckled, Vriska suddenly stood up and slammed her hands down on the table.

“Hey, you guys,” she said. “You all... like me, right?”

Everyone at the table shrugged and murmured, “Yeah”s and “Sure”s.

Vriska grinned a little. “Good. So then if I invite you all to my party at the end of the month, none of you can say no, right?”

“Another one?” Nepeta chimed in from the end of the table.

“Yes, another one. I haven't had yet this year, so shut up,” Vriska snapped. She looked in Karkat's direction and plastered a warm grin on her face. “And besides, we still have to officially welcome Vantas to the school. And what better welcome is there than a party?”

Karkat scowled in her direction as she said this. Vriska met his gaze and narrowed her eyes a bit, the smile on her face tightening.

“So, that's a yes then? Yeah? Ok good. It's next Friday at 8. Prepare yourselves for a night full of raucously awesome, probably illegal, alcohol drenched fun. Be there or be fuckin’ square,” Vriska said, stepping back and crossing her arms smugly. When she sat down, she winked at Karkat. He frowned again.

Once lunch was over, he and Dave started off towards their next classes.

“Dude, you have to go. Vriska’s parties are fuckin’ sick. You'll love it,” Dave said.

“I don't wanna go,” Karkat said flatly.

“Why not?”

“Vriska’s a bitch, and I'm not about to spend an entire night locked in her house letting her torment me.”

“Well, she's also my friend, but thanks,” Dave said, rolling his eyes a bit. “And it won't be so bad.”

Karkat turned to raise his eyebrow at Dave.

“Fine. It won't be  _ as bad _ as you think it will.”

“And just how are you so sure?”

“ _ Wellll _ ,” Dave said with a small smirk. “For one,  _ I'll _ be there. That's always a deal-breaker, right?”

“That just makes me wanna stay at home more,” Karkat teased.

“Wow, way to be fuckin’  _ nice _ ,” Dave said, nudging his elbow into Karkat's side.

“I  _ did _ learn from the best.”

Dave scoffed quietly and chuckled a bit. “But for real, I think you should go.”

“Why?”

“Well... why not? I mean, it's a party. Parties are fun. I'll be there. You've been talking about how you want to be more social.  _ I'll _ be there. There are really no downsides to this,” Dave said.

“No, please, tell me again that you're going,” Karkat muttered, rolling his eyes. He looked down at his feet, picking at a hangnail. “I don't know. I mean, I'm not really the best at shit like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I really only had about two friends back in New York, and we met way back when we were kids.”

“Oh. Well, it's not hard, really. You just sorta... show up. Talk to some people, maybe. It's not that complicated. You're just over thinking it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Karkat muttered.

“Oh, what, you think I just woke up with all the friends? Waiting for me fresh out of the gate?” Dave chuckled a little. “Nah, I had to fight for these assholes just as hard as anyone. And you should have to too. Wouldn't want you feeling left out.”

“Making me feel bad about not wanting to go isn't gonna make me want to go more.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Would you like me to go back to begging on my crippled knees?”

“I never said that” Karkat said. “And why are you even so determined to make me go anyways?”

“Because you're my friend. I like it when my friends go places with me. And besides, I think it'd be romantic if our first kiss was a sloppy drunken make-out on top if a pile of moth bitten sweaters in some musty old closet,” Dave said nonchalantly.

Karkat stopped walking, his cheeks flaring red. He stared at Dave for a moment. “What?”

“You heard me,” Dave said over his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He stopped and turned around to face him. “Don't you just love the idea of us dry-humping in the closet, ironically, in some tiny back room while everyone else gets blackout drunk? I don't know about you, but to me that sounds like a  _ great _ first date.”

Karkat looked him up and down, his entire face on fire. After a few moments, he shook his head and tried to scowl at him. “W-we're not dating.”

“Fine, then I'll just  _ platonically _ shove my tongue down your throat. How's that?”

Karkat opened his mouth to say something, but as he did the bell rang.

Dave looked down the hallway and then back at Karkat. “Think about it,” he said before wheeling himself away.

Karkat watched him as he went, the burning in his face having calmed a bit to a tingling simmer. He reached up and brushed his hand against his cheek, mentally kicking himself for blushing so hard and so fast. But the idea of kissing Dave was just--

“Karkat?”

Karkat looked up. His teacher was standing beside him, one hand on the doorknob and an expectant look on her face.

“Are you going to join us inside, or are you wanting to go to the tardy room?” she asked flatly.

“Oh. S-sorry.” Karkat readjusted his bag on his shoulders and followed her inside. He slid into his usual seat at the back of the class as his teacher went to the front of the room and started the day’s lesson. He pulled out his notebook, sighing softly as he did.

Throughout the rest of class, as hard as he tried to pay attention to what was being taught, his mind kept drifting back to Dave. What he'd said, the sly, already familiar half grin that had spread across his face, the playful, almost sexy glint in his eyes--

_ Sexy? _

Karkat blushed again, this time the fire spreading down his neck as well. Oh, god no. He wasn't gonna start going there. Not now, anyways. But..,. Dave’s lips always looked so soft, even though they were always slightly chapped from him always licking them. He imagined they pressed against his, moving slowly in unison with his, parting slightly to let his tongue slip out, moving from his mouth to ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck, sending warm chills down his spine, before gently closing his teeth around a section of his skin and--

The bell rang loudly, directly over Karkat’s head. He winced, being violently shaken from his fantasy. Was class really already over? As he rushed to packed up his stuff and scribble down the homework, he realized he'd only copied down half the notes. Tonight was gonna suck. But he didn't care. All throughout the rest of the day, he found himself almost anxious for dismissal so that he could see Dave again. When the bell finally did ring, he practically leapt from his seat. He found himself walking almost urgently to his locker and after a brief moment of embarrassment forced himself to slow down to a normal pace. Didn't want to seem too desperate.

When he did get down to the front lobby, Dave was already sitting there staring out the window. He slowed down a bit once he saw him, flushing for a third time. His mind immediately went back to the fantasy, Dave’s soft, experienced hands sliding down Karkat's sides, brushing over the skin like delicate birds, sending--

Karkat shook his head, his heart beating slightly faster in his chest as he approached. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he walked up and stood next to Dave.

“H-hey,” he said, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, and kicking himself for letting his voice tremble.

“Oh. Hey. What's up?” Dave said, turning off his phone and slipping it into his pocket.

“I...” As Karkat looked into his eyes, he suddenly lost his train of thought. He'd never noticed much before, but Dave’s crimson eyes were beautiful: rich and bright and clear, mesmerizing even.

Dave’s eyes flicked up and down Karkat's body and he smirked a bit, quirking one of his eyebrows. “You gonna say something or are you just gonna stare at me for the next hour?”

“I--U-um...” Karkat felt his cheeks start tingling again. God, why was he suddenly being so shy around Dave?

“Yes?” Dave said slowly, raising his eyebrows and beckoning for him to continue. “Go on.”

“I--” Karkat closed his eyes and let out a short breath before he opened them and turned away a bit. “I've decided,” he mumbled.

“What's that?”

“I've decided,” Karkat said a little louder, “that I'll go to Vriska’s stupid party.”

Dave’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes. I mean, it's like you said. I might as well,” Karkat mumbled, his cheeks burning. “‘S not like I'd have anything better to do anyways. And it seems like it might be... fun. Or something. Even if it's at Vriska's place.”

Dave grinned at Karkat, and sat back in his wheelchair. “And you're still trying to convince me you're not in love with me.”

“I--! I-I'm not,” Karkat said quickly, his entire face turning red.

Dave chuckled. “Yeah, like I'm gonna believe you  _ now _ . Why else would you suddenly wanna go? Just face it: you're head-over-heels for me.”

“I just--” Karkat started feebly. “I'm not.”

“Sure. And I'm a fuckin’ Olympic sprinter.” Dave's phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out to check it, and then reached down to unlock the wheels of his wheelchair. He glanced back at Karkat and winked at him before he wheeled away. “Just tell me when you're planning to propose to me. I wanna make sure I look good when it happens.”

Karkat watched him leave, his entire burning dully. He reached his hand up to cup his warm cheek. Why had he told Dave he didn't like him? It wasn't true, but it was the first thing that had come to mind. He'd just been so nervous that he just said it. God. He hoped he hadn't already fucked everything up.

He saw Kankri pull up a few minutes later and he dragged himself out to the car, still sulking a bit. He stared out the window on the way home, quietly fuming to himself, until he noticed Kankri had missed the turn down their street.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up a bit.

“Don't you remember? You have therapy today,” Kankri replied.

“What? No, you never told me.”

“Yes, I did. I reminded you last night, and I told you last month it was every other week.

Karkat started to protest, when he remember that Kankri  _ had _ told him about it. He'd ignored him, though, and ultimately forgotten. Karkat pressed his mouth into a scowl and sat back, crossing his arms and sighing sharply. He didn't say anything as they pulled into the parking lot, or as they went up to the therapist’s office, or as he walked into her office and sat down with a heavy plop and a soft huff.

“Hello, Karkat,” she said from her desk. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What's wrong?”

“I don't want to fucking be here.”

“Oh. Well, I understand that, but as I've told you before, these appointments are important for you,” she said, watching something on her laptop. She typed something out and then close it, standing as she did. “I know you think they're unpleasant, but they're necessary nonetheless. It'll be less painful if you just try and go with it.”

Karkat only scowled as she approached and sat in the chair opposite from him. She pulled her pen and notepad from her bag, the way she always did, and crossed her right leg over her left, just like always.

“All that aside, how have you been?” she asked. “I haven't seen you in a few weeks.”

“Fine.”

“How are things with your brother? Are you two doing well?”

“Yeah.”

“That's good. What about school? How's that been going? Have you been getting good grades so far?”

“Mostly.” Karkat sat back on the plush couch, letting himself sink into the cushions a bit. “I already know some of the stuff we’re doing in a couple classes.”

“That's good. Sounds like you're doing well, yeah?”

Karkat nodded.

“Good. How are you socially? Have you been making friends at school or in your neighborhood?”

“Yeah, a couple. But I'm not-- I-I mean, there mostly just think one kid’s friends and they just kinda put up with me, but I guess they count as mine too.”

The therapist nodded. “Well, it's a start.”

“He... He's really the only one out of all of them that I ever talk to, though,” Karkat mumbled. “The others are just kind of acquaintances.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Well, I mean, he's the first person I talked to there, and he's just...” Karkat sighed softly. “He's... nice, I guess. I mean, he's kind of an asshole when you first meet him, but after a while you get used to it and it starts to seem kind of endearing or whatever. I don't know.”

“Hmm. Well, what's he like?” she offered.

“I don't know. He's...” Karkat said quietly. “He... I don't know. He's kinda like the stereotypical ‘cool kid’ or whatever, like he's got all these friends and everyone knows who he is and all, but he's not like... aloof or anything. It's like he genuinely likes all of his friends and everyone he meets. Even me too, even though I've been kind of mean to him since we first met.”

The therapist nodded understandingly. “So he's the one you consider to be your friend?”

“Yeah. He-he's nicer now--  _ I'm _ nicer now.” Karkat looked down at his lap. “I guess. I don't know.”

“Mmm.” Out of the corner of his eye, Karkat saw her shuffle a bit, flipping a few pages in her notepad. Once she'd found her page, she set down her pen and looked at him. “So, for this session, I was thinking that perhaps we could start talking more about your dad.”

Karkat raised his head. “What?”

“I understand if you don't want to,” she said reassuringly. “Your situation was complex. I get that. But it  _ is _ the main reason why you're here in the first place, and I personally would like to try and get started working through it soon so you can try and move past it quicker. But I understand if you're not comfortable at the moment.”

Karkat started to open his mouth to protest, but then hesitated. His mind went back to that morning, back to the memory of his father standing there defenseless, a gun trained on his chest. Karkat closed his mouth. “No, I'm... fine. I'll talk.”

“Alright.” She shuffled. “What was your father like? What do you remember about him?”

“As a person? He was popular,” Karkat said. “Pretty much everyone that met him liked him. He was a big part of the committee of the church we used to go to. He was a pastor there. Everyone loved him and his sermons. He always got super into them, and he had a ton of charisma, so whoever was listening got excited pretty quickly too. He could get an entire crowd on their feet in just a few minutes. I remember sitting in the back pews watching him, back when he used to drag me to church with him. I... I remember wondering why everyone was so excited over my dad. It wasn't like he was anything special, really.”

“What about as a parent?” the therapist offered. “How did he raise you and your brother?”

“Hardly at all,” Karkat said flatly. “He was almost never home during protest season, and if he was it was only for a couple days at a time, weeks at best and hours at worst. I got used to waking up without him there.  He was just... He had a lot of church stuff he always had to take care of since he was the head, and he'd started getting involved in all these religious rights protests when I was a kid, so he was always bouncing around between meetings and rallies and whatnot. He really only came home for a change of clothes and a night’s sleep, if he was lucky. Most of the parenting stuff was Kankri’s responsibility after I turned 8.” Karkat sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wouldn't be surprised if he forgot he even had kids.”

“And would you say that's the source of most of your resentment towards him?” the therapist asked.

“I guess. That, and the fact that he fucking died,” Karkat muttered.

The therapist nodded, ignoring his comment. “So you’re angry that he left you alone? For good this time?”

 

“I--” Karkat cast his eyes to the ground. “I guess. Kind of.”

 

“I see.”

 

“But it’s not like I miss him or anything,” Karkat said quickly. “He was an asshole.”

 

“You might not now, but you will.”

 

Karkat only scowled at her. He turned away from her, his mind still on his father. The inflated, amazing caricature of a person everyone but him had seemed to love. The entire congregation back in New York had basically treated him as if he were Jesus Christ himself. If anything,  _ they _ were the ones who were the most torn up about his death, not Karkat and Kankri. Not the ones who mattered.

Through his haze, Karkat heard the therapist say they were done. He got up and walked out into the waiting room. He followed Kankri to the car, staring out the window at the blurred asphalt that rolled past. He wasn't quite sad, necessarily, but at the same time he couldn't get his mind off of him. How his voice used to carry all the way to the farthest pews without a microphone, how comfortable and confident he always looked up there, how much more... content. Certainly more content than he ever did at home. Maybe that was why he spent all his time out. To escape.

Karkat sat on the couch, half watching TV. Kankri was in the kitchen getting dinner ready, and Cronus was standing beside him helping, bringing him ingredients and utensils when he needed them. As he watched them, Cronus stepped up to Kankri and slid his arms around his waist from behind, bending his head down to put it in the crook of his neck. Kankri leaned his head over a bit, pressing his cheek against Cronus’s. They just looked so... normal. So happy. Even though the same person had raised them, the same neglectful, piss poor excuse of a dad, he'd ended up like this: with a house and a fiancé and a job and a life. But Karkat... What did he have? What was he? How had they ended up so different?

 

Karkat stood up, mumbling that he was going for a walk. He grabbed his coat and shuffled to his usual spot in the woods. He let the cold smoke swirl around him, drifting into the orange beams of sunlight breaking through the trees.

 

He sighed.

 

****

  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!!
> 
> so.
> 
> firstly i apologize for the month of no updates. i guess i was so relieved about last chapter that i forgot about this chapter as well. im sorry.
> 
> but i mean,,,, at least its up now....? im sorry thats a shitty thing to say i know i need to update more often its just with school and stuff its a little difficult sometimes. ill try to be better.
> 
> maybe..,..? ill see u soon? i dont know it might be another month again. but regardless, keep a look out for any updates
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still pissed @ chapter 10: chapter 9 tho

"So anyways, after I so _gracefully_ persuaded him that us borderline fucking was gonna be great, he did the whole thing where he blushes really hard and gets that look like you just kicked a dog in front of him. You know the one. It was pretty fuckin' fantastic."

"Wow. Really?" John asked, the surprise evident in his voice even over the phone.

"Yeah."

"And he actually said he was gonna go after all that?" John asked with a soft chuckle.

"Incidentally, yes. I guess my _charismatic charms_ were too much for him to resist," I said with a smirk, shifting my phone to my other hand and putting the other one behind my head. "Not to mention how much of a shame it would be to pass up on a fine piece of ass like this."

"Uh huh. And you think he's still gonna love your 'charismatic charms' once you're shitfaced drunk?" John asked.

"Ok, first of all, you and I both know damn well I'm not really _that_ bad when I'm drunk, and second if all, who ever said I was gonna get wasted there?"

John laughed a little. "Like you'd ever go to one of Vriska's parties and _not_ drink everything in sight."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Fuck off. I said I'd stopped doing that, remember?"

"And I'm the queen of England."

I faltered a bit, my cheeks burning a bit. "Take that back or I'll drag myself over to your house and kick your ass myself."

"I reckon I could take you," John said with a giggle.

"Oh really? Even though you weigh all of about 120 soaking wet?"

"Even though _you_ can't even physically kick my ass?" John said playfully.

"Even though you're not the one who's been lifting all 150 pounds of yourself in and out of a wheelchair for the past 6 years?" I countered with a sly grin.

John laughed in his familiar musical way. "Ok, ok, fine you got me there, I guess."

"Mm hmm, that's what I thought," I said. "Don't forget your place, Egdork."

"Yeah fucking right, Dave." There was an indecipherable noise on his line, and I heard him shuffle as he moved.

"What was that?"

John didn't answer, but I could hear his muffled voice, as well as the faint voice of his dad. After a minute and a couple 'yes's, he put the phone back to his ear. "No, it's fine, it's just my dad. Wanted to see what I was up to."

"Did he think you were beating off again?"

I could practically hear John's cheeks flare red as he giggled softly. "N-no. He just wanted to check up on me."

I smirked. "That's parent talk for making sure you're not jerking off." I sat up. "Speaking of, I haven't heard from Dirk in a little while now."

"Oh, he's still at home? I thought he'd left," John said as I scooted over to the edge of the bed.

"No, I would've heard him," I said, pinching my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I lowered myself into my wheelchair. "I think he's still in his room. I guess we'll see."

"Are you gonna go check?" John asked with a half chuckle.

"Of course," I said. "I need to make sure he's not doin' anything _inappropriate_ , y'know?" As I wheeled out into the hallway, I chuckled and murmured, "I bet he's in there with one of the sweet young honeys he met at some b--"

Just as the words escaped my mouth, I saw Dirk's door open and someone step out. They were struggling a bit to keep their leather messenger bag on their shoulder while also attempted to fasten the last few buttons of their forest green flannel.

"Are you sure? I mean, if you want, I can stay--" Jake asked, his familiar British accent strong. He stopped as Dirk said something from inside the room. Then, he sighed. "Alright. Since you say it's f--" He glanced over at me and then stopped talking, doing a bit of a double take. "Dave?"

I just stared at him, struggling to hold back a sharp laugh. To John I whispered, "Oh, god, was I right."

I heard scrambling from inside Dirk's room and then his head popped out from the room, his cheeks flushed and his hair unusually messy. He looked between me and Jake for a few moments, his mouth half open as he stammered softly. Finally, he turned to Jake and said, "I-I'm fine. You can let yourself out."

Jake nodded, briefly glancing over at me. "Alright. See you later?"

"Yeah. Bye."

Jake murmured a goodbye and then gave Dirk a quick peck on the cheek before readjusting his bag on his shoulder and leaving. Dirk watched him go, a half dreamy look flashing on his face before he remembered I was there and snapped out of it. He looked at me and scowled.

"I'll, uh, call you back," I said to John with a quiet chuckle. I ended the call and set my phone on my lap. When I looked up, Dirk had gone back into his room. I grinned a little bit, grabbing my wheels and going into the kitchen. As I opened the fridge to look for a snack, I heard Dirk walk in as well.

" _So_ ," I said, closing the fridge and turning to face him.

"Just--" Dirk rubbed at one of his temples and leaned back against the counter. "Don't. Please."

"What exactly were y'all _doin'_ in there?" I asked playfully.

"We were just talking," Dirk said flatly.

"Oh, is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?"

"We're _friends_ ," Dirk said forcefully.

"'Friends' don't look at each other's asses the way you looked at his."

"I wasn't--"

"At least tell me you topped."

Dirk only pressed his mouth into a thin line, his cheeks and neck turning pink. I laughed out loud.

"Shut the fuck up," he muttered, brushing past me and slapping me on the head as he did.

"And _you're_ the one who's always getting on my case about it too," I said.

"I said shut up." Dirk pulled open the fridge and got out a beer, cracking it open and taking a long swig. I felt the back of my neck prickle a bit and I glanced away. "Who were you talking to on the phone, by the way?"

"Huh? Oh, it was just John."

"And were you guys having hot kinky phone sex?"

"N-- No," I said, my neck heating up. I saw Dirk smile behind his can. "Fuck off. We were talking about a party."

"Oh really? A party? Is my little David finally being _social_ for once?" Dirk asked, his voice full of sarcastic surprise. He chuckled when I flipped him off. "When is it?"

"Next Friday. At Vriska's house."

Dirk nodded. "Vriska. I see. She's the, uh, the one with the whole..." Dirk gestured to his left arm, "thing, right?"

"Yep. That's her."

"Huh. Didn't think you liked her," Dirk said, taking another sip from his beer.

"I--" I started. "Well-- I mean she's--" I sighed. "She throws good parties."

"Mmm."

"Yeah. So, I can get the address tomorrow at school, 'cause I'll probably need you to drop me off of John or someone can't pick me up," I said, preparing to go back to my room.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast. _I_ didn't say you could go," Dirk said, grabbing the back of my wheelchair to stop me.

I smacked his hand away and then turned to face him. "What?"

"Is it gonna be one of _those_ parties?"

"One of what parties?" I asked flatly. This was exactly what I'd been hoping he wouldn't ask.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I actually don't."

"Fine. Then are there gonna be drugs or alcohol there?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe."

"Dave," he said warningly.

"I'm serious. I don't know. Someone might show up and bring something. I don't know who all she's inviting."

"Dave, you don't have to be difficult about this. I'm only trying to keep you safe."

"I'm _not_ being difficult," I mumbled.

"Yes you are. Since you apparently 'don't know,' then if it turns out there _is_ alcohol, are you planning on drinking any?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Dirk set down his now empty can and looked me up and down. After a moment, he sighed softly. "Alright. You're gonna have to see if John can take you. I'm busy that night."

"That's fine."

"And if I found out you drank even a _sip_ \--"

"I know, I know," I interrupted. "I won't. I swear."

"...And try not to fuck anyone," Dirk added, picking up his can and crushing it against the counter. "I don't want any nieces or nephews. You're already more than enough to deal with."

"I love you too, brother dear. But, unfortunately for the both of us, I cannot. Not that I won't try," I said as I left the room. I went back to my own room, slipping the beer I'd hidden under my shirt into my dresser. It wasn't like he was gonna miss it. I hoisted myself up onto the bed and then pulled out my phone to start texting Karkat.

DAVE: yo

DAVE: man

KARKAT: WHAT DO YOU WANT?

DAVE: ah nothin much really

DAVE: just wanted to talk

DAVE: see what shit youre up to

KARKAT: NOT MUCH OF ANYTHING, REALLY. JUST CATCHING UP ON HOMEWORK.

DAVE: sounds lame

KARKAT: YEAH, WELL I'M NOT JUST GONNA LET MYSELF FAIL SO

DAVE: i guess

DAVE: so anyways in less mind numbingly boring news

DAVE: you ready to get fucked up on friday

KARKAT: AND JUST WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

DAVE: you ready to let loose

DAVE: go wild

DAVE: get into some trouble

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: ugh

DAVE: yknow

DAVE: get *fucked up*

DAVE: do some dancing down some watery beer make out with someone maybe try some drugs

DAVE: yknow normal high school stuff

KARKAT: OH. THAT'S WHAT YOU MEANT.

DAVE: what

KARKAT: WELL, I MEAN,

KARKAT: IM NOT REALLY ALL THAT INTO THAT KINDA STUFF.

DAVE: why not

KARKAT: WELL IT'S LARGELY ILLEGAL, FOR ONE.

DAVE: a minor detail

KARKAT: AND TWO, I'VE... NEVER REALLY HAD MUCH OF AN OPPORTUNITY TO TRY ANYTHING LIKE THAT

KARKAT: AND BESIDES, BEING TOTALLY SHIT FACED DOESN'T REALLY SOUND ALL THAT FUN TO ME.

DAVE: youre missing out my dude

KARKAT: AM I REALLY?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean sure its not what most law abiding citizens would do

DAVE: but it can be nice to relax a little for once

DAVE: just let yourself go and have some fun yknow

KARKAT: I MEAN, I GUESS.

DAVE: its not bad i promise

DAVE: just make sure you dont drink too much and youll be fine

DAVE: and besides if youre not drunk then how are we possibly gonna end up mackin on each other the way i want us to

KARKAT: FUCK OFF.

DAVE: well youd never do it sober

KARKAT: WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING SHIT LIKE THAT?

DAVE: like what

KARKAT: LIKE THIS WEIRD HALF FLIRTING HALF HARASSMENT THING YOU'RE ALWAYS DOING.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: well i mean

DAVE: i like it i guess. its fun.

DAVE: i like talking to you. i think youre cool

DAVE: im kinda digging the tiny ball of anger angle youre workin here

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: its cute i like it

DAVE: why do you sound so utterly opposed to it though

DAVE: are you trying to tell me youre not completely and helplessly head over heels for me

DAVE: because frankly i find that hard to believe

KARKAT: THATS NOT WHAT I SAID.

DAVE: so you *do* like me then

DAVE: because i remember you never did answer that question the first time i asked you either

KARKAT: NO.

DAVE: so then you hate me

KARKAT: OR MAYBE I JUST THINK WE'RE FRIENDS?

DAVE: suuure

DAVE: *friends*

KARKAT: WELL YOU'RE NOT EXACTLY SOME HOT PIECE OF ASS

DAVE: way to be harsh as fuck man

KARKAT: SHUT UP YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN

DAVE: youve hurt me

DAVE: no

DAVE: not hurt but *wounded*

DAVE: im not sure ill ever recover

KARKAT: DAVE I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD

DAVE: i mean i tend to be resilient but this

DAVE: this may be my ultimate downfall

DAVE: this is it kitkat

DAVE: youve finally taken down the great infamous dave strider

DAVE: congratulations

KARKAT: FUCK OFF.

KARKAT: I HAVE TO GO NOW ANYWAYS

KARKAT: TALK TO YOU LATER?

DAVE: yeah seeya

I looked at my phone for a few moments before I locked it and tossed it onto my nightstand. As I did, I noticed the way the day's last orange and gold light was streaming through my window and throwing colored slits all around my room. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my camera, tugging myself over to the side so I could get a better angle. I held the eyepiece to my eye, carefully adjusting the focus before I slowly depressed the button, hearing the familiar snap as the shutter closed. Once the picture had been spat out, I shook it until it developed. Wasn't as good as it had looked in my head, but it was alright. I scribbled the date in the corner and then put it back next to my camera.

I sat back in my bed, crossing my arms behind my head. I closed my eyes, taking in the peace and silence.

_The inside of the car was hot. Blazingly hot. Fiery hot. Like the air was tinged with flames. Sweat rolled down his neck, pooling on his collarbone and under his arms. He could hardly move his arms, only able to scrape at the hard covering beneath his fingers. His face was warm. Blood was rushing to his head. He was upside down._

_He heard sirens._

I woke up with a small start, my breath catching in my throat and a soft gasp escaping me. My room was dark, fading grey light splayed across my lap. I must've accidentally fallen asleep. I reached for my phone on my bedside table and saw that it had been almost half an hour. I reached up and brushed my fingers against my neck, half expecting it to be slick with sweat. As I did, I heard a knock at my door and Dirk stuck his head in.

"I'm gonna go pick something up for dinner. Any requests?" he asked. He looked me up and down and frowned a bit. "You alright? You're lookin' kinda pale."

"What?" I dropped my hand from my neck, picking at a thread on my bedsheet. "Oh, I'm fine. I just-- I fell asleep for a little bit. Just woke up, 's all. I don't really care what you get. I'm not all that hungry anyways."

Dirk stared at me for a few more moments. His eyebrows twitched towards each other for a split second, but he didn't say anything. Eventually his face relaxed a bit. "Make sure you at least eat somethin' before bed," he murmured before leaving and closing the door.

"I will," I called after him. Once I heard his footsteps fade, I let myself sink back against my headboard, sighing deeply. I hadn't had any flashbacks like that in a long while. I'd almost believed they had stopped entirely, besides the occasional random hot flash. I couldn't figure out what had triggered it. I tried to push it out of my mind for the rest of the night, but as I was getting ready for bed, I felt a sudden spike of anxiety. As I got into bed, I glanced over at my dresser, debating. I swallowed hard. No. I wasn't gonna fall back into that. I reached over to turn off the light, rolling over and closing myself and letting myself fall asleep.

_It was hot. The bright afternoon sun was beating down through the window, unyielding even to a hand over the eyes. The thermometer in the car said 80. Felt more like 90. Shirts stuck to backs, sweat clinging to brows, stiff, itchy jeans._

_The rumble of the road was audible in the passenger seat. It was an older car, not like the new hi-tech ones with quieter insides. Couldn't have afforded one anyways._

_The other cars were all going so fast. Too fast, almost. It_ was _the highway, after all, but it was still almost nerve-wracking. What if one of them lost control? What if one of them crashed?_

_Words in throats, in mouths, on tongues, almost into the air. A question. What was it? The memory was poor, because of what happened n--_

_An impact, harsh and fast and powerful. Loud, like a bomb. Head, shoulders, entire body thrown to the side, hard enough to crack the joints. Whiplash was the least of the worries._

_Skidding. Screeching. Metal on metal and asphalt and metal again. Creaking. Snapping. Falling. Rolling. Rolling. Over and over again. Which way is up?_

_A scream. A shriek. Panic. Fear. What's going on? A sound never heard from him before. Arms cannot protect, cannot shield. A sharp pain. Glass shattering. Heavy thuds. Legs under something. Another yell, cut off by a sudden impact--_

I sat bolt upright in my bed, slapping a hand over my mouth. I had to fight back the urge to scream out for Dirk. I was trembling hard and I was so panicked I could hardly see straight. I was covered in cold sweat and I felt like my blankets were choking me.

I pressed my hands against my forehead, brushing back my sweaty hair, my breath coming quick and shallow. "You're ok," I gasped to myself, hugging my arms around myself and trying to calm my shaking. "Y-you're ok. It's ok. It was a dream. It was just a dream." I tried to close my eyes, but when I did all I could see was fire and redness and blood. I whimpered softly, staring out my window at the moon, still shivering. I needed to try and ground myself before I had a full-fledged panic attack and had to call for Dirk.

I groped clumsily around on my bedside table, searching for the picture I'd taken from earlier. I finally found it, after knocking about half the other stuff off, and held it up to the light to look at. I could see my legs in it, as well as the end of my bed and my dresser. I reached down and squeezed my own leg, reminding myself it was here. I ran my fingers over my sheets, letting the motion calm me down. I curled my fingers over the edge of my bed, gripping it with white knuckles. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe slowly and deeply. Eventually, I felt my heartbeat calm down and I stopped full on shaking, settling into a jittery post-episode buzzy feeling.

I pushed my hair away from my face, sighed softly. "God." I put the picture back on my nightstand and reached for my phone to check the time. 3:13. I flopped back onto my bed, sighing again. I wasn't getting back to bed anytime soon, not when I was still this wound up. Not unless I could calm myself down enough within the next hour or so.

I cut my eyes over to my dresser. I sat up, turning to look at it head on. I could.

_You can't,_ I thought to myself.

It would help.

_Not_ _by much._

Still by enough to matter.

_What would he think?_

He won't know.

_You said you stopped._

People can lie.

_You promised you wouldn't lie to him._

People lie.

I lowered myself into my wheelchair and went over to my dresser. I picked up the first beer can, cool and smooth against my feverish skin. I stared at it, at the way the moonlight glinted off the blue and silver metal. I considered it. I closed my fist around it and sighed softly. I tucked it under my shirt as I cracked the tab open. Even though I knew Dirk wouldn't hear, I was still paranoid.

I drank it quickly, quick enough that the guilt didn't start setting in until I was finished and it was too late. I carefully crushed the can and hid it under a couple pairs of jeans, along with all the others. My mouth tasted sour and dry, but I felt better. Mentally, anyways. I looked at the rest I had stashed, nestled in their hiding spot. I only had three left. I had to stretch them out. After hesitating a bit, I reached for another one, practically chugging it, crushing it, and stashing it before I could reconsider. I pushed my drawer closed and went back to bed, the bitter taste lingering in my throat.

***

In the morning, I felt almost sick. Not quite hungover, but unwell, like I was just getting over a cold. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom, hardly opening my eyes and opting instead to feel my way there along the walls. My mouth tasted absolutely rancid and it took two rounds of brushing and mouthwash to get rid of it even a little bit.

I leaned my elbows on the counter when I was done, staring at my reflection. My hair was a mess, a combination of sleep and the dried sweat from my nightmare plastering it to my forehead. My skin looked rough and dry, like I hadn't had a shower in a little while. I was starting to see bags and dark circles under my eyes, and my eyes themselves looked dull and bored. I looked... horrible, really. I sighed, reaching a hand up to rub at the bridge of my nose. Whatever. I was too tired to care. I took my shower and got dressed and had already finished eating by the time Dirk walked out. When I looked over at him, I remembered the sound of the beer tab opening from last night. A stab of guilty went through me and I looked away, my chest suddenly tight.

"Hey," he said, walking over and grabbing his keys from the kitchen island. "You ready to go?" He looked over at me and stopped, his eyebrows knitting together. "You alright?"

"What? Yeah. I'm just... kinda tired still," I said, reaching a hand up to rub the back of my neck. "I think I might be coming down with something."

"Oh. Do you want to stay home?"

"Nah, I'll be fine. I have a couple tests today anyways."

Dirk nodded, shifting his keys to his other hand. "Ok. Since you insist. But if you start feeling worse, tell me. I mean we can't really take any chances with the t--"

"The tumor. Yeah, yeah. I will, don't worry." I pulled out my phone and checked the time. "We should get going soon. I don't want to be late."

Dirk nodded and I followed him outside, grabbing my backpack from where it sat by the door. Once I saw the car, a flash of fire and smoke flickered across my vision and I froze, a stab of fear going through me. I suddenly remembered the dream, the searing heat, the sound of squealing metal. My breath caught in my throat and my hand tightened on the strap of my backpack.

"Dave? What's wrong?" I heard Dirk ask, concern on his voice.

I closed my eyes, trying to push down the panic. I took a soft breath and forced myself to continue on to the car. My heart was still beating wildly as I hoisted myself up. I could feel Dirk's eyes on me as he got in.

"Dave," he said.

"I'm fine."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong," I mumbled, looking out the window.

"Yes, there is. What is it?"

"Nothing, I told you."

"There's something, Dave, and I would appreciate it if I didn't have to force it out of you."

"I didn't--" I sighed sharply. "Look. I-- I'm tired, ok? I went to bed late, and now I'm kinda tired. I'm not exactly the most sociable person when I'm tired. That's it," I said.

"Dave--"

" _What?_ Is the truth suddenly not good enough for you? Do you want me to make some shit up?"

"That's not what I said, and I would appreciate it if you didn't bite my head off."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I just want to make sure you're not lying to me."

"I'm not. I'm tired, and you're not making my mood any better by fucking attacking me."

Dirk closed his eyes, taking a soft breath after a moment. "Do I need to be worried," he said calmly. "Since you want to be difficult, that's all I'm asking: should I be worried."

"No," I said, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. "Because there isn't anything wrong. Now can we just fucking go already?"

Dirk looked over at me, and then exhaled quietly before turning on the car and pulling out of the driveway. I sighed sharply, closing my eyes and rubbing at my temple again. I was already ready for this day to be over.

When we got to school, I let Dirk help me out and then left, mumbling, "Bye," over my shoulder. I knew he was gonna try and say something else, but I didn't have the patience.

I got to my locker fairly quickly and started getting the textbooks I needed for the day. As I was pulling out my calculus book, a picture fell out of my bag and fluttered to the ground. When I picked it up, I saw it was the one from last night, of my room during the sunset. I stared at it for a moment, my mind briefly flashing back to last night. I hesitated for a moment before I sighed softly and taped it up in my locker. It wasn't all that bad a picture.

I closed my locker and turned to go to my and Karkat's usual meeting spot. He was already there waiting for me, head down as he looked at something on his phone. Even just seeing him, I felt a little better. As I approached, I heard him scoff and mutter something sharply under his breath. He looked up, and when his eyes landed on me I saw his face relax a bit.

"Hey," he said. "Took you long enough. I thought you weren't here."

"Nah," I said with a shrug. "Unfortunately for both of us, I'm still here. I just woke up kinda late. Y'know it takes a lot to take me down." I glanced over at him and smirked a bit. "Not that you didn't try your absolute damnedest last night."

Karkat rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Look, I wasn't trying to do anything, I was just..." I tuned him out as I watched him ramble, noticing the way his nose scrunched up just a bit, or the way he tended to look to the right when he was making a point, or--

"Why are you staring at me?"

His voice snapped me back to reality, and I found that he was staring back at me, his face drawn in a look of confusion. He glanced down to look at his shirt and then back at me, brushing a hand over his cheek.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asked. "Or--"

"No, no, it's not that. You're fine. You're just..." I shrugged. "I dunno. Nice to look at."

"Oh." After a second, his cheeks turned red. "Oh."

"Yeah. You're a... sight for sore eyes, as they say. Cute. Adorable. Gorgeous. Hot. Whatever floats your boat."

Karkat's cheeks got redder and he looked away from me, blinking rapidly. He was silent for a moment and then crossed his arms tightly over his chest and laughed a little, the sound high and pinched and seemingly involuntary.

"N-no, I'm not," he said. "Average, maybe, but not fucking 'hot'."

"You sure? Have you seen yourself?"

"Yeah, I have," he said with a scoff. "I have been, for the past 16 years. Have _you?_ "

"You're just--" I was cut off by the bell. "Maybe you're just used to it. Numb to your own beauty"

"I'm not," Karkat mumbled, shrugging on his backpack. "I'm just... I don't know. But I'm not cute."

"But you're not ugly either," I pointed out.

Karkat scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Fuck you."

"Someone as cute as you? Gladly."

"I'm not talking about this with you anymore," Karkat said, waiting for me to get my things so we could walk to class together.

"Aw, why not, baby? I want everyone to know just how gorgeous you are, you included."

"I'm not your baby," Karkat said with a short laugh.

"Aren't you?" I asked as we walked into the classroom.

"And you're positive you flirt this much with all your friends?"

"Yeah," I said with a shrug, just as the bell rang again, signaling the start of class. "Just ask Egbert."

Karkat gave me another look and an eye roll as he went to his seat at the front of the class. All through the lesson, I found myself watching him, the way he looked at the teacher as she spoke, the way he scrunched his eyebrows together ever so slightly when he was copying down notes from the board, the way he leaned to the left and tapped his pen against his thumb when he was bored. Everything about him was just so... mesmerizing to me. I couldn't stop staring, and I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted to. I liked him looking at him, I guess. I like... him.

I sighed softly, looking down and brushing my hand through my hair. I let out a soft chuckle as I picked up my pen and started copying down notes for the board.

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hows it goin everybody
> 
> so uh. sorry for a month long wait. im really really sorry its so shitty of me but i mean im just. i dont know. things take way more time when youre in high school + youre mentally ill so yeah i guess just, sorry.
> 
> i hope you like the chapter though!! im not a v good judge bc I automatically assume everything i write is super shitty, but i think it was worth the wait
> 
> i... think? chapter 10 will come a little quicker? but. honestly? i dont know. just dont get your hopes up and settle in for another month long semi-hiatus ((like gigapause but tiny. megapause. kilopause. one of those. idk))
> 
> so... yeah.
> 
> ok.
> 
> alright.
> 
> see you next chapter.


	11. Chapter 10

“So you're saying he called you cute.”

 

“Yes,” Karkat said. “Repeatedly.”

 

Kanaya nodded, looking him up and down as she did. After a moment, she shrugged. “Well, you are, I suppose.”

 

“Oh, my god, why does everyone keep agreeing with him?” Karkat muttered, looking away as his neck got warm.

 

“Perhaps because it's true? Don't tell me you think you're ugly,” she said.

 

“I never said that,” Karkat mumbled, doodling a small flower in the corner of his paper. “I just don't think I'm fucking ‘hot’ or ‘gorgeous’ or whatever else he called me.”

 

“Well, all I'm saying is it might mean something, if he's already calling you cute, even if you don't think you are yourself.”

 

“So you're saying he _does_ like me?” Karkat asked hopefully, glancing up at Kanaya.

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Karkat asked, looking up fully from his flower.

 

“Well, you can't exactly just assume that you know how he feels. For all you know, he's just being overly polite, in his own unusual way. What you really need to do is just man up and ask him about it already.” She looked down to scribble an answer onto her worksheet. “I know you've been putting it off.”

 

Karkat felt his cheeks tingle. “I can't.”

 

“Why not? It's the simplest solution to this relatively simple problem.”

 

“I-- I... um...” Karkat looked away, brushing a lock of hair away from his eyes. “I don't know, I just get... nervous around him, I guess-- Why are you laughing?”

 

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to,” she said between giggles, her long feathered earrings shaking as she did. “It's just... cute, I guess. Ironically. Watching you get all shy like this when you talk about him.”

 

“It's not funny,” Karkat hissed, his cheeks getting warm.

 

“I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just endearing to me, I guess. I mean, no one else really knows this side of you, right?”

 

“No,” Karkat said. “Just my close friends, I guess. Everyone else just knows me as the short angry new kid.”

 

“Well, maybe Dave would like this nicer side of you as well?” Kanaya offered. “You're not mean to him as well, are you?”

 

“N-no, not-- Not anymore. I mean, I still get angry at him for the stupid shit he does--like _this_ kinda stuff--but I'm not, like...” Karkat sighed softly, trying to find the right words. “I-I guess I _try_ not to be as mean to him.”

 

“Well, that's a start, I suppose. For you. It would certainly help your situation if you kept your temper in check _all_ the time, but it's alright if you're at least trying.”

 

“I bet he doesn't even like me,” Karkat mumbled, drawing small lazy circles on his paper. “Or at least not that way.”

 

“Don't tell yourself that. There's no guarantee he doesn't,” Kanaya said reassuringly.

 

“What is there even about me to like? I'm mean, I'm tiny, I'm not super cute or anything, I'm just kind of... there.”

 

“That's not true.”

 

“Yes it is,” Karkat muttered.

 

“No it's not. I bet he thinks you're adorable. I bet you're all he ever thinks about. I bet he totally wants you.” Kanaya glanced over at him and shrugged a bit. “I would.”

 

“Wow, that sure means a lot to me coming from a lesbian,” Karkat said flatly.

 

“Be quiet. You know what I meant. You're not as utterly repulsive as you seem to be making yourself out to be.” The bell rang out through the classroom, signaling the end of class. “You have a chance with him. Trust me. If I know one thing, it's that. You just need to make your move. You're going to Vriska's party, right?”

 

“Um, yeah,” Karkat said, pushing his notebook into his backpack. “Are you?”

 

“Probably. I have to see if Rose is busy that night. But that's beside the point. A party seems like a nice place to let him know how you feel.”

 

“Really? A house packed full of sweaty high schoolers and booze?” Karkat asked as they walked out into the hall.

 

“Yes, I know it's not ideal, but it's one of a handful of options you have now, since you seem so insistent on never talking to him about it here. And besides, if you're going to be drinking I'd at least hope you'd use the boost in confidence somewhat to your advantage.”

 

Karkat only huffed. “So you want me to confess my undying love to him while I'm wasted?”

 

“If you ever want to do it at all and since you don't seem to want to do it sober, then yes.”

 

“You're a real great influence, you know that?”

 

“I simply want what's best for you.” Kanaya turned to go to her next class as Karkat made his way down to the cafeteria. He shoved his hands into his pockets and found his lighter and began toying around with it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

 

It always came back to this: whether or not Dave liked him back. Karkat had never been all that great at picking up on flirting (thanks in no part to the lack of people flirting with him) but from what he could tell, Dave at least _seemed_ interested. But it was the uncertainty of the statement as well that was throwing him off. He didn't want to try and pursue anything only to find out that he'd read it all wrong. And even if he knew the feelings were mutual, how would he go about trying to get together with Dave? Karkat wasn't shy--everyone who had ever met him knew that--but around Dave, all of a sudden he started stuttering and his chest got all tight and fluttery and he giggled too much and his face felt like it was on fire. It was like someone put a spell on him, controlling him and making him act all timid and awkward while he watched from above. He wouldn't be able to articulate any kind of intelligent sentences like that, much less explain that he had a crush on Dave. He was never used to feeling this way, and it frustrated him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it stop, and he couldn't keep himself from wanting to see Dave.

 

Karkat sighed, crossing his arm over his chest as he walked into the cafeteria. Dave was the only one sitting at the lunch table, and when Karkat saw him, his neck got warm.

 

“Where's everyone else?” Karkat asked as he approached, sitting in the seat across from Dave.

 

“Dead,” Dave said, glancing up from his phone when Karkat sat. “Or else maybe they all finally realized what a huge fuckin’ asshole I am and they left for good.”

 

Karkat stared at Dave in bewilderment. When Dave noticed, he smirked and set his phone down.

 

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding. According to John, Vriska somehow managed to get lunch detention for the entire class. So, _unfortunately_ , it looks like it's just the two of us for today.” Dave’s smile faded into something a bit more sincere, almost shy in nature. “Is that... ok?”

 

“Um.” Karkat felt his cheeks grow hot. “Y-yeah, sure. I-I was--” he tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and giggled a bit. “I don't know. I kinda like being with just you.”

 

“Oh really? Is that so?” Dave asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

 

“Uh, y--” Once Karkat realized what he'd said, his face flared red. “Oh! Oh, n-no, I just meant that everyone else-- I mean, they're nice and all, I don't hate them or anything, but I'm not really used to being around that many people, usually, on a daily basis, so it's just kind of been... stressful for me. I like it better being with just one or two people.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Dave sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the table, rubbing the back of his neck. “But in all honesty, me too. I don't think I could handle everyone else right now. I'm kind of exhausted.”

 

“Are you ok?”

 

“Yeah. I just had some trouble getting to sleep. Guess I really am a closet insomniac,” he murmured with a dry laugh.

 

“You and me both,” Karkat said, rolling his eyes.

 

Dave laughed wearily, lifting his head and resting it on his palm. He ran a hand through his curly dirty blonde hair, pinning it flat against his head for a moment before letting go and letting it spring back into place. It looked... soft to Karkat and he had a sudden urge to run his hands through it as well.

 

Dave noticed him watching and smirked a little. “Like what you see?” he asked, fixing his scarlet eyes on Karkat.

 

Karkat didn't say anything at first. He was too enraptured by Dave’s eyes, how brilliantly red they were. After a moment, he realized Dave had spoken and he blushed a bit. “What?”

 

Dave chuckled. “If you really think I'm _that_ hot, just tell me, babe.”

 

“I never--”

 

“You just about staring a hole through my forehead said enough.”

 

“I was-- um. I was just... thinking,” Karkat lied.

 

“Oh really? What about?”

 

“The, um, party.”

 

“Ah,” Dave said, nodding respectfully. “Finally, my area of expertise. What about it? You're still going, right?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I just don't really know what to expect still.”

 

“Don't worry about it. It's nothing to get all worked up about, really. It's just a party.”

 

“Mm hmm, you keep saying that, but clearly it means something different to you than it does to me.”

 

Dave chuckled a bit, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. “Dude, c’mon. I'm serious. All you have to do is show up and have a good time. That's literally all it is.”

 

“In a house full of sweaty drunk teenage strangers,” Karkat pointed out.

 

“Oh. So _that's_ it, huh? You're afraid of other people? What, you _shy_ or something?”

 

“No, I'm not, I just... have a hard time talking to strangers sometimes. That's it.”

 

“That's the definition of being shy, dear,” Dave said with a smirk.

 

“I'm not shy,” Karkat said forcefully.

 

“And I'm not crippled.”

 

Dave smiled as Karkat glared at him. He rolled his eyes.

 

“We're not talking about this anymore. I'm not shy, I'm just nervous about being trapped in a house full of people I don't know for an entire night.”

 

“Fine, since you insist. But I mean, it won't be _so_ bad, will it? I'll be there.”

 

Karkat let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I-I know that, you remind me every 2 seconds, but I just...” He shook his head. “I don't know. I can't just, like, hang on you all night.”

 

Dave shrugged. “You could. I wouldn't mind much.”

 

“Yeah, right. Like I'd give Vriska the opportunity,” Karkat muttered. “It's like handing her the chance to tease us even more about being a couple on a silver platter.”

 

“Well, it--” Dave started, but he shut his mouth almost immediately.

 

“What?”

 

Dave shook his head. “Nothing.”

 

“What were you gonna say?”

 

“It's nothing, really.”

 

“Dave.”

 

“Ugh, you sound like my brother,” Dave said, scrunching up his nose. “But, no, you're just... you're gonna yell at me.”

 

“No I won't.”

 

“You promise?”

 

Karkat nodded.

 

Dave looked at him for a moment and then glanced to the side and sighed softly, curling a lock of hair at the base of his scalp around his finger. “I was... um, _gonna_ say, would it really be so bad if she did...? C-called us a couple, that is. I mean, we're already...”

 

Karkat only stared at Dave. It took him a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, he blinked a few times and knit his eyebrows together. “What?”

 

“See? I told you, it's nothing. It doesn't even make any sense.” Dave crossed his arms in front of him and let out a breathy half laugh. “I don't know. I'm more tired than I thought, I guess. I sound like I'm fuckin’ drunk.”

 

“Um--” Karkat started to mumble, but he was cut off by the bell. Dave had already started shoving his things back into his bag, and when the bell rang he stopped, glancing at Karkat. He licked his bottom lip and let out another quiet laugh.

 

“N-never mind,” he mumbled, turning away to go to his next class. “I-I'll see you later.”

 

Karkat opened his mouth to stop him, but he stopped and decided against it and instead turned to go to his next class. He tried to pay attention during class, but instead his mind stayed on Dave, what he'd said about them being called a couple. It could've meant anything really--him just joking around, or his weirdly insulting flirting bullshit again--except... the way he'd said it. He'd seemed shy about it at first, and afterward he sounded almost embarrassed. Like he'd meant it.

 

 _But that's impossible. He doesn't like you_ , Karkat thought to himself. _At least not like that._

 

Karkat stopped. He thought about it again. The way Dave got all nervous and fidgety was way out of character for him. The rest of the shit he said he always said with a smirk or a chuckle. He never _actually_ acted shy about it. This was different. It meant something. It had to.

 

Karkat walked through the rest of the day only half paying attention to class. The question stayed in his head, quietly humming in the background, until the end of the day, when he saw Dave again. The question rushed to the tip of his tongue and for half a second he opened his mouth like he was about to ask it. But as soon as Dave turned and noticed him, he lost his nerve and closed his mouth again, letting out a soft whimper as his voice died down.

 

“Hey,” Dave said, turning back around and looking down at his phone. “‘S up?”

 

Karkat only shrugged, going over and standing beside Dave. An awkward silence hung between the two of them, the sound of all the other people around them barely making it better.

 

“S--” Karkat started quietly. “S-so are we gonna... talk at all? About what happened at lunch?”

 

“I already told you, it was just some random thing that popped into my head,” Dave said. “It didn't mean anything.” He rolled his eyes, muttering, “‘S what happens when you drink a beer at 3am, I guess.”

 

“Are you... sure?”

 

“Yeah. Really, it didn't mean anything at all. I was just k-kidding around,” he said, stammering a bit at the end. He reached up and smoothed his hair down, a quiet awkward chuckle escaping his lips.

 

“Dave--”

 

“M-my brother’s here,” he mumbled, ignoring Karkat as he reached down to unlock his wheels. “I'll, uh, see you later.”

 

Karkat watched him leave, his mouth half open as he struggled to come up with something to say. Finally, he stammered out, “I'll text you.”

 

Dave glanced back at him and nodded a little as he went out the door. Karkat watched as he went out to his brother’s car and got inside. His brother came out and folded up his wheelchair to put in the back. Even from so far away, Karkat could tell they looked nearly identical. There was something else about him, too. One of his shoulders--his left--looked lower than the other, and he kept leaning to the right ever so slightly. Once the wheelchair was stowed away, he went back around to the driver’s side and got and after lingering for a minute they pulled away.

 

Karkat watched them go silently. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling that Kankri had arrived as well. He readjusted his backpack as he pushed open the door and trudged out to his brother’s car.

 

“Hey,” he mumbled as he climbed inside.

 

“Hello, Karkat. How was your day today?”

 

“Fine.” He put his feet up on the dashboard and pulling out his phone.

 

“Take your feet down,” Kankri said, pushing Karkat's feet off.

 

Karkat glared at him as he slid down in his seat and set his heels back against the glove compartment and stuck his tongue out.

 

Kankri sighed heavily but said nothing else. He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.

 

“Do I have therapy today?” Karkat asked, not looking up from his phone.

 

“Your schedule is on the calendar by the fridge. Didn't you check that?”

 

“No.”

 

Kankri only pursed his lips and sighed. “No, you don't. It's next week. I thought I told you.”

 

“Oh. That reminds me. Can I go to a party next Friday?”

 

“Where is it? Who's hosting it?”

 

“This girl named Vriska.”

 

“Do you know her?” Kankri asked, glancing over at Karkat as they pulled up to a red light.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Personally?”

 

“Yes, she's one of the people I sometimes sit with at lunch.” Karkat rolled his eyes, muttering, “We're best fucking friends. We tell each other everything.”

 

“Language,” Kankri warned. “So, it's going to be at her house? Do you know the address?”

 

“I can ask her.”

 

“Alright. How large is it going to be?”

 

“I don't know. She invited my entire lunch table. I don't know who else though.”

 

“What time does it start? How late do you plan to stay there? No later than midnight, I'd venture. Oh, that's right, I haven't set a curfew for you yet. I forgot I was planning to do that. Darn. I can do that later, I suppose. That's not important now,” Kankri said half to himself. The light turned green without him noticing. Only after the car behind him honked and he jumped a tiny bit did he start moving.

 

“Why do you keep asking all these questions?”

 

“I simply want to know the proper information. This is the first big social event you're going to at a new school, with new people in a new city. I want to make sure you're going to be safe.”

 

“I'm fine. I'm a sophomore, not a fucking kindergartener. This isn't a fucking playdate that needs to be planned out or some shit.”

 

“Language, and I'm only trying to make sure I know all of what's going on and where you are.” They pulled into the driveway. Kankri turned to face Karkat. “You'll... be safe, right? You won't try any illicit substances, even if someone offers it to you? You won't have unprotected sex?

 

“No, god,” Karkat said, wrinkling his nose at him in disgust. “We. Why would you even bring that up?”

 

“I'm only--”

 

“You know what, never mind. I don't care.” Karkat unbuckled his seatbelt and was already pushing open the door by the time the car came to a stop. “I'm going for a walk.”

 

“Kark--” Kankri started to say. He gave up halfway and instead just shouted after him, “Be back before dusk, please.”

 

Karkat ignored him, shoving his hands into his pockets to thumb at his lighter. He walked out to his same clearing as before, pushing through the tangled weeds and vines and relieved to find everything the same, from the concrete bench to the streams of light filtering between the foliage to the cigarette butts from last time.

 

Karkat sat on the bench, pulling out his cigarettes and his lighter. He noticed as he tapped one out that he only had three left. He'd need more soon. He wasn't worried, though. Cronus was reliably a much heavier smoker than he was and Kankri was reliably against the habit, so there were always some to find hidden somewhere if you looked hard enough.

 

Karkat took a long drag after he lit up, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he exhaled through his nostrils. He sighed softly, letting the nicotine buzz calm him down. He put the cigarette between his lips as he pulled out his phone. He unlocked it, and after a moment of hesitation clicked over to his and Dave’s last conversation.

 

KARKAT: HEY.

 

Almost as soon as he sent the text, Karkat felt a spike of anxiety in his chest. He took a few short drags as he waited for Dave to reply. A couple minutes later, with a good half inch of ash missing, his phone buzzed.

 

DAVE: hey whats up

 

KARKAT: NOTHING MUCH.

 

Karkat bit his lip as he flicked ash off of the end of his cigarette. Why was he suddenly so nervous about this?

 

KARKAT: SO

 

KARKAT: UM

 

DAVE: yes

 

KARKAT: SO ABOUT WHAT YOU SAID AT LUNCH

 

DAVE: oh my god

 

DAVE: listen i already told you just forget about that

 

DAVE: it doesnt matter it was just some random bullshit that i let come out of my mouth for some reason

 

DAVE: it doesnt mean anything ok? dont let yourself get so hung up about it

 

KARKAT: ARE YOU SURE?

 

DAVE: pretty sure

 

DAVE: i mean cant really trust most of what comes out of my mouth when im hungover anyways

 

KARKAT: YOU WERE HUNGOVER?

 

DAVE: little bit

 

DAVE: dont tell anyone

 

KARKAT: WHY WERE YOU

 

KARKAT: NEVERMIND, IT DOESN'T MATTER.

 

DAVE: i have my reasons

 

DAVE: dont worry youll eventually reach those layers of my fucked up personality

 

DAVE: all in due time as they say

 

Karkat furrowed his eyebrows, slowly exhaling another lungful of smoke.

 

KARKAT: FINE.

 

DAVE: so what else is new

 

DAVE: or did you just text me to interrogate me about the stuff i said at lunch

 

KARKAT: UM

 

KARKAT: NO.

 

Karkat hesitated, scrambling to come up with something to say. He wanted to keep talking to him, but he didn't want to talk about the obvious.

 

DAVE: im waiting

 

KARKAT: DID YOU REALLY MEAN IT EARLIER?

 

KARKAT: WHEN YOU

 

KARKAT: UM

 

KARKAT: CALLED ME “CUTE”?

 

DAVE: oh

 

DAVE: that

 

KARKAT: DID YOU?

 

DAVE: probably

 

KARKAT: WHAT’S “PROBABLY” SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

 

DAVE: well i mean i was *still* hungover this morning so youre gonna have to take it with a grain of salt obviously

 

DAVE: but i mean now that im thinking about it it sounds about right so

 

DAVE: yeah i guess i did mean it

 

KARKAT: OH.

 

DAVE: why

 

KARKAT: JUST CURIOUS.

 

DAVE: do you think youre not

 

KARKAT: I NEVER SAID THAT

 

KARKAT: WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK I THINK I'M HIDEOUS?

 

DAVE: well you dont exactly act like you think youre hot shit

 

KARKAT: WELL I'M NOT, REALLY.

 

DAVE: case in point

 

KARKAT: FUCK OFF.

 

DAVE: dont act like you dont love me

 

Karkat smirked a bit, setting the cigarette back between his lips.

 

DAVE: listen i gotta go now

 

DAVE: talk to you later?

 

KARKAT: YEAH I SHOULD GET GOING TOO

 

KARKAT: BYE

 

DAVE: seeya

 

Karkat clicked his phone off, sliding it into his pocket. He finished off the rest of his cigarette, snuffing out the butt on the concrete bench, and then started making his way back to the house. When he walked in, Kankri was on reading. He looked up when he heard the door open, and the slight tension in his brow relaxed.

 

“You're home,” he said, dog-earring the page he was on and closing his book.

 

“Were you waiting for me?” Karkat asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

 

“Sorry. Old habits. I just wanted to make sure you got home on time,” Kankri said, looking away as his cheeks reddened a bit. He shook his head. “But that's irrelevant. About what we talked about earlier--”

 

“How you were afraid of me fucking everyone in school?” Karkat muttered, kicking off his shoes and going to the kitchen to rummage through the fridge.

 

“Language. And no, not exactly. I've... decided that yes, you may go to the party. I think it's better for your overall social health if you do spend some time with your friends outside of school.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“ _But_ not before we set some ground rules first,” Kankri said, standing and turning to face the kitchen. “Firstly, you are not to accept any illicit substances that anyone may offer you, no matter who or what it is and no matter how much they are pressuring you to. I know how these parties can be, and I want you to be smart. S--”

 

“Listen, I'd like to stay and chat about this,” Karkat interrupted, slamming the fridge shut and twisting open the bottle of juice he'd gotten, “but frankly, I don't give two shits and I promised Sol I'd skype him today, so I'm gonna go.”

 

“Karkat, this is important,” Kankri said sternly. “It's very vital that you make smart decisions and don't end up in an unsavory situation with people you hardly know.”

 

“‘People I hardly’-- They're also my _friends_ , Kankri. And I'm not an idiot. It's not like I'm gonna come home wasted or stoned or something. You know that.”

 

“I know. I'm not accusing you of anything, I just want to make sure you're safe. Is that alright with you? Or are you going to be difficult?”

 

“Maybe you could try just trusting me to make my own decisions for once? It's not like I haven't been for the past 4 years,” Karkat muttered, walking away into his room.

 

“Karkat, don't walk away from me while I'm talking to you. K--!”

 

Kankri’s nagging was cut off when Karkat slammed his door loudly. He wasn't necessarily all that angry; he just didn't like the way Kankri was micromanaging his life all of a sudden. After 4 years of doing everything on his own, he wasn't used to having someone looking out for him.

 

Karkat sighed sharply, running a hand through his hair and taking a sip of his juice. He sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. He clicked on the Skype application and then pulled out his phone to text Sollux.

 

KARKAT: HEY.

 

Karkat gnawed anxiously on his fingernail, waiting for him to text back. Finally, after almost ten minutes of waiting, his phone buzzed on his desk.

 

SOLLUX: hii

 

KARKAT: I’M FREE FOR A LITTLE WHILE. DO YOU WANNA SKYPE?

 

Sollux didn't reply at first. This time it took almost fifteen minutes for him to text back.

 

SOLLUX: 2ure

 

Karkat smiled when he read the text and excitedly opened up a call with the other boy. It took a little while, during which Karkat’s heart nearly beat from out of his chest, but the call finally connected and Sollux’s face filled the screen. His short, jagged jet black hair was sticking up in every direction, and his alabaster skin looked especially grey today, along with the occasional angry red pimple. When his mismatched eyes landed on Karkat, he grinned a little.

 

“Hey, KK,” Sollux said. “Long time no see, huh?”

 

“Hi,” Karkat said, his face heating up a bit. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and smiled at Sollux. “W-what's up?”

 

“Nothin’ much. Everyone's still shitty and lame, school still sucks, Tuna’s still an asshole,” he said with his signature lisp, leaning his arm on his desk as he spoke. “Shit’s still boring as hell without you here.”

 

“I know. I miss you guys too.”

 

“How’s it on your end?”

 

“It's... alright. Surprisingly, Kankri’s not as neurotically anal about everything as I thought he'd be, which is kinda nice. School’s a fucking nightmare though. The one here has to be at least twice times the size of Robert Frost.”

 

“Damn. How'd they shove that many people in one building?”

 

“Beats me. But, I mean I guess it could be worse. All my classes are pretty much within the same couple of hallways, and plus I have this...” Karkat hesitated for a moment, thinking of what to call Dave, “friend who I walk to class with, and he's a junior so I guess I usually just kinda follow him around.”

 

“A friend, huh?” Sollux murmured. “Replacing us already?”

 

“No, no he's just a friend. We don't even really know each other all that well. He's a... uh... acquaintance, I guess is more like it.”

 

Sollux stuck his tongue out, smirking a bit and showing a few of his crooked crowded teeth. “Sure. An acquaintance. You fuck anyone there yet?”

 

“No.” When Sollux raised his eyebrow at him, he said more forcefully, “ _No._ I've barely been here four weeks. _That_ is not exactly my top priority.”

 

“So? You think a month isn't enough time to bag someone?” Sollux smirked again. “Y'know that chick from last year? The one with all the hair?”

 

“Aradia? The one who was obsessed with all that dead stuff?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah. Why? Are you two...?”

 

“Almost. I don't know. We went on a date a couple weeks ago. So maybe. We'll see. I _am_ doin’ a lot better than you, at least.”

 

Karkat smirked, rolling his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, when he was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing on Sollux’s end. Sollux checked to see who it was, and when he read the caller ID his eyes lit up a bit.

 

“Shit,” he murmured. “Speak of the devil.”

 

“Is that her?”

 

“Yeah.” He looked up at Karkat, almost as if he'd forgotten he was still there. “Due, I gotta take this.”

 

Karkat's heart sank a little. “Oh. Y-yeah, that's fine. I kinda have to get going soon mysel--”

 

“Hello? Yeah. Yeah, it's me. Sollux. No, yeah, I can talk.” He glanced back over at Karkat and gave him a quick peace sign before he reached over and disconnected.

 

“Bye,” Karkat murmured under his breath, sitting back in his desk chair. He logged out of Skype and turned off his computer. For some reason, he had a sour taste in his mouth, as if something bad had happened, even though nothing had. Sollux was just like this sometimes: he'd get super obsessed with his latest crush, or a new video game or something of the like, so much so that he tended to somewhat neglect his friends. Hyperfixation, as Sollux himself called it. It was no big deal; it used to happen all the time. But for some reason, now Karkat actually felt... nervous. And jealous, almost. Like Sollux had already gotten bored with missing him and found a brand new toy to play with. Like he was already starting to forget him and all the time they'd spent together.

 

Karkat shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. _That's crazy talk. Of course he's still your friend. You've only been gone a month. He hasn't replaced you._

 

Karkat chewed nervously on his finger. But hadn't he done the exact same thing with Dave too? Hell, he'd barely even remembered that he was gonna talk to Sollux at all, he was so preoccupied with him.

 

_No. That's not what you're doing. This is different. Aradia isn't just some new best friend, she's his crush, and she could eventually be his girlfriend. It makes sense that'd he'd brush you off. It's too important for his love life to get angry about anyways. That's not what you and Dave are. You're just... friends._

 

Karkat stopped. Just friends. That's what they were: two people who mutually and platonically liked each other. Nothing else. Just... friends.

 

Karkat's phone buzzed and he picked it up to see Dave had texted him. He read the message, and he smiled, letting out a soft chuckle. He texted him back and then held his phone in his hands, turning over absentmindedly.

 

Yeah. Just friends.

 

******

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> i took one of your guys’ advice and wrote a little bit every day and here we are!! less(?) than a month!! its actually really helpful if i break it down into chunks and work on a little bit every day, so ill be doing that from now on in hopes of putting out much faster updates
> 
> we are almost to the chapter ive been looking forward to since i started this, basically: the party chapter. thats when shits gonna go down 
> 
> chapter 11, though, is not that chapter. its something of a filler chapter. so if it really really really sucks ((like, a lot more than usual)) thats why, just as a heads up. ((u can blame my poor planning for that ;) ))
> 
> so yeah. thats the plan, i guess. hopefully by the time i post chapter 11 ill be done with or almost done with school after which ill ((probably)) update a little faster. we will see.
> 
> ((dont take my word for it.))
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is,,,,, pretty horrible jsyk its not like i put ~effort~ into this i mean its a filler chapter so just,,,,

The Friday of the party, I could hardly pay attention at school. Admittedly, I was probably getting way too excited about it--it _was_ just another high school party after all and I'd already been to tons--but I didn't care. It had been a while since I'd actually gotten drunk, and I needed it, quite frankly. I didn't get much of a chance to talk to Karkat during school, but as soon as I got home I texted him.

 

DAVE: hey

 

KARKAT: HI.

 

DAVE: youre still goin tonight right

 

KARKAT: YEAH. I’LL PROBABLY BE A LITTLE LATE, THOUGH.

 

KARKAT: I HAVE SOME STUFF I HAVE TO DO BEFORE THEN.

 

KARKAT: BUT I MEAN I’LL SHOW UP EVENTUALLY.

 

DAVE: sweet

 

KARKAT: ARE YOU STILL DEADSET ON ME “LETTING LOOSE” OR WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU CALLED IT?

 

DAVE: yes

 

KARKAT: UGH

 

KARKAT: WHY? ARE YOU TRYING TO FULFILL SOME KIND OF PRIMITIVE DESIRE TO SEE ME TIPSY?

 

DAVE: nope not really

 

DAVE: just curious

 

DAVE: i mean youre the only one of my friends i havent seen wasted yet

 

KARKAT: MAYBE YOU NEED BETTER FRIENDS.

 

DAVE: or maybe i just need to get you drunk

 

Once Karkat stopped replying, I sent a quick text to John reminding him that he needed to come get me.

 

DAVE: come get me you whore

 

JOHN: well if you say it like that i’ll just leave you

 

DAVE: fine

 

DAVE: *please* come get me since im crippled and cant drive

 

JOHN: that’s better

 

JOHN: i’ll be over in a little bit

 

I was lying on my bed, flipping through the pictures I'd taken during the last week and waiting for John to text back, when I heard a soft knock at my door. When I looked up, Dirk was leaning against the doorframe.

 

“Hey,” I said.

 

“Hey. I thought you'd already left.”

 

“Nope. Still here.” I tapped the sides of the stack of pictures into order. “All dressed up and nowhere to go.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing. I, um-- John’s comin’ to pick me up. He said he was on his way a couple minutes ago.”

 

“Oh.”

 

A few long seconds of silence stretched out, and I started getting uncomfortable. “Was there... something you wanted?”

 

“Yeah. I, um, wanted to talk for a second before you left.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Dirk looked down, running a hand through his hair. His shoulder cracked softly. “So... I guess... Just-- You know I only get on your case as much as I do because I want to make sure you're doing ok, right? You understand that?”

 

“Yes,” I said flatly. “You always say that.”

 

“I know. I just... want you to know I'm not doing it just to piss you off. I know you don't like talking about that kinda stuff.”

 

“Ok.”

 

More silence. I heard Dirk shift again.

 

“You're still mad at me,” he said after a moment, more like he was telling me rather than asking.

 

I put my pictures on my nightstand. “I never said I was mad.”

 

“You are. I can tell.”

 

“I'm just tired,” I muttered.

 

“You should get more sleep, then.”

 

I looked over at him, frowning at him a bit. I wanted to say something, and I almost opened my mouth when my phone buzzed beside me. It was John.

 

“John’s here,” I mumbled, moving so I could get i to my wheelchair.

 

Dirk just watched me as I got my stuff together. He was silent as he followed me out into the living room. I didn't say anything, but it was starting to grate on my nerves.

 

“Dave,” he said as I got to the front door. I twisted around to look at him. He took a soft breath, and then said, “Be smart. Please.”

 

“I will. Don't worry.”

 

“Ok. Be home by 12:30.”

 

“Ok. Bye.”

 

“See you.”

 

I opened the door, and wheeled myself out. John was waiting for me in the driveway, in his dark blue hatchback. I saw him perk up a bit in the driver’s seat and he got out to help me with my wheelchair.

 

“Well, someone certainly took their damn time,” I said as I approached. We reached out and fist bumped before John went to open the passenger side for me.

 

“Be quiet. It wasn't my fault. There was traffic, and we don't exactly live next door anymore. Give me a little credit, at least.”

 

“Mm,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully as I got into the passenger seat. “Whatever. It's fine. I don't care. I just don't wanna show up with all the booze already gone.”

 

John laughed a little, glancing back at the house as he put my wheelchair in the back seat. “You're drinking tonight?”

 

“Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I?”

 

“Well, what'd you tell...?” John jerked his head in the direction of the house.

 

I shrugged. “Said I wasn't gonna. There's this thing called lying. You should try it some time.” When John raised an eyebrow at me, I chuckled a little. “C'mon, dude. I mean, it's not like he's gonna be there himself. He can't _actually_ keep me from drinkin’ anything. He doesn't have to know.” Another look. “Don't tell me you actually _told_ your dad you were gonna get drunk?”

 

“Well, no,” John said climbing into the driver’s seat, “but, I mean, I don't have to. I mean, _I_ was never... Um...” John trailed off when he realized what he'd said. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

 

After a few beats of tense silence, I waved it off with my hand. “Don't-- um-- Don't worry about it. I'll be fine.”

 

“Sorry. I-I wasn't really th--”

 

“It's ok. Can we go now?”

 

John nodded, turning on the car and pulling out of my driveway.

 

“So do you know who all’s gonna be there?” I asked, rolling down the window and sticking my fingers out into the hot damp air.

 

“Not really. I mean, everyone we know will be there, but I don't know who else besides that. From what I heard it's gonna be a decent size.” John smiled a bit, glancing over at me. “Might even be big enough for the cops to come. Remember, in 8th grade?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, smiling a little bit. “How could I forget? I had to lock myself in the fuckin’ bathroom until everyone else had left. And I know Dirk had a helluva time tearing me a new one.”

 

“Yeah. Y'know I hear Karkat's gonna show up.”

 

“Yeah, I texted him a little while before you showed up,” I said, the corner of my mouth lifting in a tiny half smile. “Said he'll probably be late, but he's still coming.”

 

“What'd you think he'll be like drunk?” John asked.

 

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of expert on this?” I said playfully. I shook my head. “I don't know. Maybe he'll start sobbing, or he'll turn into even more of an asshole, or he'll have a sudden change of heart and start acting all lovey dovey.”

 

“‘Asshole?’ I thought you liked him.”

 

“No, I do, don't worry. But I mean honestly? Everyone's kind of an asshole. Even you.”

 

“Don't forget, _I'm_ the one driving.”

 

“Oh, was that supposed to be a threat? How ‘bout you ask God about that one. He'll tell you a thing or two about what hitting me with cars actually does.”

 

John glanced over at me and laughed softly. “You're a real fucking riot.”

 

“Thanks. Helps with the crippling depression.”

 

“Are you sure you're not drunk now?”

 

“Nope. Unfortunately, I'm completely sober. C'mon, dude, you've know me for 12 years. Are you honestly still surprised by anything I do anymore?”

 

John did say anything. He just rolled his eyes and kept driving. Eventually, we turned into Vriska's neighborhood and her gigantically lavish house came into view. Even though it was only around 7, there were a couple cars parked in the driveway and on the curb. When we got out, I felt something of a kind of excitement fizzle in my chest. It had been a while since I'd been to a party. I missed the environment and the smells and the sounds.

 

When John rang the doorbell, Vriska answered the door. Her hair was swept up in a messy ponytail and she was wearing a navy blue top with light wash cut offs. When she saw us, she pretended to sneer.

 

“What kinda nerds get to a party early?” she asked flatly. “You're supposed to get here late.”

 

“I'm just here for the booze,” I said.

 

“Huh.” She pretended to mull it over for a moment before she shrugged and moved out of the way. “Alright. I suppose I've got some beer to get rid of. You still the boozehound you were before?”

 

“Maybe,” I said as I wheeled inside. “We'll see soon as I get a drink.”

 

The house was only about a third full by now, with people milling around and chatting as they sipped from their red solo cups. The music was low but still loud enough that I could feel the bass in my chest. I went around, just taking everything and saying hi to the people I recognized. Eventually I ended up in the kitchen, where there was a mostly full case of beer on the counter. I took one out, cracking open the tab and taking a long drink. I felt a soothing sense of calm wash over me as I did, a half smile creeping onto my lips.

 

“Just as I thought,” Vriska said from behind me, walking around to behind the counter and leaning over it on her arms. “Been here all of three minutes and you're already downing all my beer.”

 

“Why else do you think I came?” I asked, running my thumb along the rim of the can. “It's not like I actually _like_ you.”

 

“Interesting. I woulda thought it was so you could finally get with that little boy toy of yours,” she said nonchalantly.

 

“Who?” I asked as I took another sip.

 

“Karkat.”

 

I started, choking a little bit. I heard Vriska chuckle as I wiped a small dribble of beer from my chin. “What--” cough “make you think I'm trying to do anything with him? And why here of all places?”

 

“Because I have eyes and I'm not an idiot.” She shrugged, leaning her cheek on her fist. “And I mean, why not, right? I know the both of you are too fuckin’ coy about each other to actually do anything sober.”

 

“Does that mean you're giving me permission to fuck him in your house?”

 

“If it keeps you guys from doing it at lunch, then yeah.”

 

I rolled my eyes, finishing off my beer and grabbing another one. “We're just friends. I promise.”

 

“I always forget how much you like to lie when you're sober,” Vriska murmured. “Where is that little dwarf anyways? Is he getting here early or is he part of the rest of the population who understands that you're supposed to get to parties late?”

 

“First of all, fuck off. Second of all, yeah. He said he'd be a little late.” I tossed back another mouthful of beer. “Now would you kindly fuck off so that I can drink your beer in peace?”

 

“Fine. Just make sure you're sober enough to actually _talk_ to your boyfriend when he finally gets here,” she said, slipping away from the counter and slinking away. “Oh, and we're playing truth or dare once he does show up. I'd advise you not to be wasted for that.”

 

“Thanks for the heads up,” I muttered as she walked away, knocking back the rest of the beer.

 

After half an hour and another beer and a half, I had a nice buzz going on. After I'd been there a full hour, I was finishing my fifth and starting on my sixth when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was a text from Karkat.

 

KARKAT: I’M ALMOST HERE

 

DAVE: cool

 

DAVE: better get here fast before i drink all the beer

 

KARKAT: I ALREADY TOLD YOU, IM NOT GETTING DRUNK

 

DAVE: oh sure like you can ignore all the peer pressure

 

KARKAT: NOT TO MENTION MY BROTHER JUST SPENT HALF AN HOUR TELLING ME OVER AND OVER THAT I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TRY ANY “ILLICIT SUBSTANCES”

 

DAVE: well alcohol isnt *technically* illicit

 

DAVE: we are simply accepting the opportunity that has presented itself to us

 

KARKAT: HOW DRUNK ARE YOU?

 

DAVE: five beers in and still goin strong

 

DAVE: its amazing what a year and a half of regular binge drinking will do to your tolerance

 

KARKAT: WOW.

 

KARKAT: WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF MINUTES AWAY THOUGH SO I'LL SEE YOU SOON?

 

DAVE: yeah

 

I put my phone back in my pocket, taking another swig of beer. I killed a little more time talking to the people around me, some of whom I knew but most of which were strangers. About ten or fifteen minutes later, I felt my phone buzz again at the same time that I heard the doorbell ring over the booming music around me.

 

KARKAT: IM HERE.

 

I excused myself from the people I was mingling with and fought my way through the crowd over to the front door. For whatever reason, I felt something stir in my chest, something akin to excitement, almost.

 

I reached for the doorknob.

 

****

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao hey guys
> 
> i told you it would be bad
> 
> yeah so this is what you oughta expect as filler chapters from me. please pray for both of our sakes that i dont have to write any more
> 
> im foreseeing that chapter 12 will take a lot longer than 11 ((mostly bc it is not 2200 words long)) so please please please dont get on my case too much if it takes a month or more i promise im trying to get it out as fast as possible
> 
> but other than that, thats about it i think. im almost done with school ((two weeks)) which is so good. writings still hard. the usual
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter


	13. Chapter 12

“I'm not going.”

 

“Karkat, this is not a negotiation,” Kankri said from the doorway. “You're going.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes. “No, I'm not.”

 

“Yes you are. We scheduled the appointment today, so you're going to go.” Kankri walked over and grabbed Karkat's wrist, tugging him to his feet. “Now, would you please get your things? We're going to be late.”

 

“I'm not--” Karkat yanked his arm out of Kankri’s grip. “I'm _not_ fucking going.”

 

“Language, and I'm not going to tell you again. Get your things,” Kankri said sternly.

 

“I swear to fucking god,” Karkat growled, angrily picking up his sweater from his bed. When he walked out into the living room, Kankri was already outside waiting. He cast a cautious glance towards the door before he went over to Cronus's bag and rummaged around until he found his pack of cigarettes. He slipped out and into his pocket and, after hesitating for a bit, took his lighter too. It was the fancy chrome-plated, windproof kind, and was much better and much more expensive than the disposable plastic one he usually used. He didn't particularly need it, but he was pissed off and he wanted to something bad.

 

“Why the hell would you schedule a fucking therapy appointment when you knew I had something tonight?” Karkat asked when he climbed into the car.

 

“I told you, I didn't realize they were on the same day until it was too late to reschedule,” Kankri replied.

 

“And what, we couldn't just skip this one?”

 

“No.”

 

“Nothing's gonna happen if I miss _one_ session. You realize that, right?”

 

“Yes. I know that. But I also know you, and I don't want this to become a habit of yours.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes, sighing harshly.

 

“It's only an hour, Karkat. I'm sure your friends will still be there when you arrive.”

 

“Fuck you,” Karkat snapped.

 

“ _Language_.”

 

“I don't even fucking need to go.”

 

“Would you rather be grounded and not go at all?” Kankri asked, glancing over at him sharply.

 

Karkat just glared at Kankri. “You can't ground me.”

 

“Yes I can.”

 

“You're not my parent. You're not Dad.”

 

Kankri let out a sharp tight lipped sigh. “No. I'm not. But I _am_ your legal guardian now, and it's my job to discipline you, so if you continue to be difficult you can just go back home afterwards instead of to your party.”

 

“Really?” Karkat asked sarcastically.

 

“Yes, really.”

 

Karkat sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. He couldn't say anything back though; he _did_ actually want to go to the party.

 

“Fine,” he muttered angrily, pulling out his phone so he could ignore Kankri.

 

“Thank you. Being so reluctant about it will only make it seem longer anyways.”

 

Karkat ignored him. Dave had just texted him to see where he was. He texted back, saying he was gonna be a little late.

 

When they finally got to the office, Karkat got out of the car before they had fully stopped and was already halfway across the parking lot by the time Kankri had gotten out and shouted after him.

 

“K-- Slow down, please.” He jogged over to catch up with him. Karkat ignored him, walking a little faster. In the elevator, he stood as far away from him as he could, leaning back into the corner with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The waiting room was mostly empty and his name was called almost immediately. He stalked into the office, seething quietly as he sat down.

 

“Hello, Karkat.”

 

“I don't want to be here,” he growled.

 

“I see. Thank you for telling me.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her right leg over her left. “Is there a reason why?”

 

“Well, I'm never exactly super fucking pumped to let someone pick apart everything I say and tell me how fucked up I am,” he said flatly.

 

“I gathered as much, but that's not all, is it? You're not usually this annoyed during our other sessions and you don't like those either.”

 

Karkat looked over at her, his eyebrows still deeply furrowed. She looked back at him, her face calm and kind. She expectantly raised her own eyebrows a tiny bit. After a bit, he looked away and rolled his eyes. “Fine. There was this... party I was supposed to go to tonight and it's starting--” he pulled out his phone to check the time, “--now, but Kankri still made me come here.”

 

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “There it is. I see. Well, it makes sense for you to be upset. A party, huh? That sounds fun. What's it for?”

 

“Vriska--the girl who's throwing it--said it was supposed to be to ‘properly’ welcome me to the school or whatever the fuck, but from what everyone else keeps telling me that's just some shitty cover up excuse for her to throw another party.”

 

“Vriska. Is she a friend of yours?”

 

“Yeah. Kinda. I mean, we sit together everyday at lunch, but we're also with a bunch of other people too and I don't really know her well since she's not in any of my classes and I've never seen her outside of school. She's really more Dave’s friend than mine.”

 

“Is Dave another of your friends?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She nodded. “Well, it’s good that you're already making some friends. But could you explain what you mean when you say she's his friend than yours?”

 

“I mean... We're _technically_ friends but...” Karkat shook his head. “I don't know. I didn't really make any of them myself, I guess, it was kinda more like I got there and Dave introduced me to all _his_ friends and they all just kind of... accepted me as theirs. I don't know.”

 

“I see. How did all that make you feel? Were you glad to have friends or did you feel different?”

 

“I guess I was just kind of neutral towards them. At first. I-I mean, I like them and all, they're nice, but I just never really... I guess... connect with any of them. I don't know.”

 

“Mmm. So you feel left out, somewhat? Is that it?”

 

“Kind of.”

 

“Do you feel like this with all your friends here?”

 

“Um.” Karkat thought for a moment. “No. Not really. Not... um... not with Dave.” Karkat crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from her. “I guess he's... the one person I get along with best. I mean, we hang out the most. I know him the best of anyone else down here.”

 

“I see. Is there a reason why that is?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. Like, he kind of... I don't know, made me be friends with him? I don't know. That sounds bad.” Karkat shook his head, bringing his hand to his lips to gnaw on his fingernail. “He was the one who showed me around on my first day. He was the first kid I met here. He started talking to me afterwards and then I guess we kind of... hit it off. Or whatever.”

 

“So he's the best friend that you have here so far?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is he going to be at the party too?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is he why you're so eager to go?”

 

“I guess. He kind of convinced me to go, in a way.”

 

“You didn't want to go originally?” she asked.

 

“Not really.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Well, I'm not really that social of a person, I guess. Like, I only had 2 friends back in New York, so I'm not really all that used to big parties like this and stuff. But I mean, it's not like he forced me to go or anything,” Karkat added quickly. “He's not like that. He's... nice.”

 

“I see. He sounds like a good kid.”

 

“He is. I guess. He can be a little annoying sometimes, but for the most part he's...” Karkat trailed off, thinking about Dave himself. The way he could switch from teasing you almost too much to being careful and considerate at the drop of a hat. Fundamentally, he knew when he was pushing it a little too far. “Annoying” almost didn't seem like the right word for him, it seemed too negative.

 

Karkat blinked, shaking himself from his trance as his cheeks got warm. He looked back over at her. “He's... I don't know.”

 

“Can't find the words?” she asked, a tiny bit of amusement in her voice.

 

Karkat shook his head. “No.” He looked down at his lap, picking at the edge of his nail. A short beat of silence hung in the air before he mumbled, “Are we gonna talk about anything else?”

 

“We can, if you want to. Is there anything specific you want to discuss?”

 

“I don't want to talk about my dad,” Karkat said.

 

“That's fine for now.” She shifted a bit in her seat, tipping her head to the side. “What about your friends from New York? You haven't talked much about them yet.”

 

“Oh. Ok.” Karkat shrugged. “I mean there isn’t much to it, I guess. They were the two best friends I had there. Probably the only best friends I've had so far.”

 

“What are their names?”

 

“Terezi and Sollux.”

 

“How did you all meet?”

 

“Terezi, I met when we were little kids. She was in my kindergarten class and she just came up to me and started talking, and then within a week we were friends.”

 

She smiled a bit. “That's nice. Is she a good friend?”

 

“Yeah. She can be a little overbearing sometimes, but she always means well.” Karkat thought back to when she'd been pestering him to talk to Dave. “Not that it seems like it all the time.”

 

“What about Sollux?”

 

“Oh. We, um, met a couple months before I met Terezi. At day care. He was one of the youngest kids there and he looked like he'd been rolling around in a pile of dirt beforehand, and he had this horrible lisp where you could barely understand a thing he was saying. And he was really angry for some reason and he was just really mean to all the other kids. Except for me, for some reason. He must've seen something in me that he thought was worthwhile, because he never yelled at me the way he yelled at everyone else. I think I made him... calmer, almost.” Karkat's cheeks started getting warm again and he looked down, pressing his hand to his face. “I don't know. But he liked being around me and I thought he was alright, so for the next two or three months we were practically inseparable, until Terezi showed up.”

 

She nodded. “They sound like some good people. You still miss them a lot?”

 

“Sometimes. When I'm alone or bored or I want to talk to someone or whatever and then I remember that my only two friends live thousands of miles away, and then it just... all kinda hits me at once. But it's starting to hurt less when it does.”

 

“That's good. What about the friends you've made here, though? Don't they help at all?” she offered.

 

“Yeah. A little. Mostly... um... m-mostly Dave. He's the one who can usually cheer me up the quickest when I'm depressed or anything.” Karkat frowned. “Which isn't all that often. I don't really like people to see me upset.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Yeah. I don't know. I sound really...” Karkat shook his head, moving his hand up to scratch behind his ear. “I don't know.”

 

“Well if it's any consolation, I think it's good that you already have a support system.” She closed the notepad on her lap and smiled a little at him. “Well, we're done for today--”

 

Karkat perked up. “We are?”

 

“Mm hmm. That wasn't so bad, was it?”

 

“I... guess not.”

 

“And based on what I think your friends are like, they'll all still be waiting for you when you finally do get to that party of yours.”

 

Karkat nodded, standing up slowly. “Yeah.”

 

“I'll see you in a couple weeks. Go have fun,” she said with a smile.

 

Karkat turned to leave, starting towards the door. With his hand almost to the knob, he turned back and held up his hand in a half wave. “...Bye.”

 

“See you.”

 

Out in the waiting room, Kankri stood up as soon as Karkat walked out. As usually, he didn't try to say anything to him until they got to the car.

 

“How did it--” he started.

 

“I don't want to talk about it,” Karkat mumbled, pulling out his phone to text Dave.

 

Kankri only sighed softly. “Fine. That's fine.”

 

As the two started on their way to Vriska's house, a tense silence hung in the air. After about five minutes, Kankri cleared his throat.

 

“So. We still haven't set any ground rules,” he started.

 

Karkat groaned. “I already told you I'm not gonna fuck anybody there.”

 

“Language, and that's good, but that's not all. First of all, you should to be back home at 12:30, _exactly_. No negotiations.” Kankri shifted a bit. “In all honesty your curfew _should_ be midnight, seeing as you are only 16, not to mention the state curfews for minors and all, but I'm going to put a bit of trust in you. For now. If you are even 5 minutes late, you're grounded.”

 

Karkat scoffed quietly. “Yeah. Ok. Sure. What else?”

 

Kankri looked over at him, his lips pursed in an annoyed frown. He looked back at the road and sighed. “Second, you _are not_ to accept or take _any_ illicit substances of any kind. No alcohol, no drugs, no tobacco, none of it. I don't care if the entire room is smoking, you politely decline. I don't care if the only thing they have to drink is beer. You ask for water instead. If I find out that you drank even one sip, you're--”

 

“Grounded?” Karkat interrupted.

 

“Yes,” Kankri said tightly. “Do not take any drinks from strangers. Even if it's someone you know. You don't know what they might have put in it, even if you're sure it tastes like just juice or soda.”

 

“I hope you realize I wasn't planning on coming home stoned or wasted or any shit like that,” Karkat said.

 

“I know, Karkat, but this is a different environment with different people and different pressures and sometimes people do things they weren't intending to in the heat of the moment.”

 

Karkat huffed softly in annoyance.

 

“I'm only trying to make sure you're safe,” Kankri said, his voice gentler.

 

“I don't need you to tell me to be safe. I'm not an idiot.”

 

Kankri sighed. “Fine. Fine, I'm not going to fight you over this.”

 

They turned a corner, and Vriska's house came into view. The entire driveway and both sides of the street were filled with cars, and there were even a couple parked on the front lawn. The music from inside was barely audible from where they were and people seemed to have overflowed and spilled outside the house, scattered across the lawn and talking and sipping from their red plastic cups.

 

Karkat felt something stir in his chest as Kankri pulled up to the house. He put his hand on the door.

 

“Hey.”

 

He turned back. Kankri was looking at him, a weird look on his face that Karkat couldn't quite place. His brother darted his eyes between the house and Karkat and then softly said, “Be careful. Please.”

 

Karkat looked away. “I will.” He pushed open the door. “B-bye.” He started towards the front door, willing himself not to look back. When he finally did hear Kankri drive off, he relaxed a tiny bit. He appreciated the concern and all, but Karkat was 16 for god’s sake. He could look after his own damn self. He didn't need to be coddled.

 

Karkat looked up at the house as he approached the doorstep. It was huge, much, much bigger than either of their houses here or in New York. Vriska's family had to be loaded. Up this close, he could feel the bass of the blaring music in his bones and almost hear the deafening din of people chatting inside.

 

Karkat swallowed. This was a gigantic house, filled to the brim with people he didn't know, from a school he'd barely been at a month, all probably drunk or stoned or both. He felt a bit of anxiety spark in his chest.

 

 _Don't worry_ , he told himself quickly, before he was able to psych himself out. _Dave’s there too. He won't leave you alone._

 

Karkat closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it go.

 

He rang the doorbell.

 

A couple of minutes later, he heard the door creak as someone pulled it open. The noise leaked out as the door opened. Dave was sitting there, looking up at him. When he saw Karkat, his face broke out in a smile.

 

“Well, well, looks like someone finally decided to show his face,” Dave said with a smirk, crossing his arms in front of him.

 

“Would you just let me in already?”

 

Dave smiled at him and wheeled himself back a bit, beckoning for him to come inside. As soon as he stepped in, he was nearly deafened by the booming music and the cacophony of voices. The place was nearly packed, with people leaning against the walls and standing almost shoulder to shoulder. Dave gestured for Karkat to follow him and together, with Dave pushing his way through and Karkat following behind in the empty space Dave’s wheelchair made, they went into the kitchen, where it was a little quieter. Karkat sat at one of the few empty stools at the counter while Dave went to go find a cup.

 

“So,” Dave said, grabbing a beer from the case on the counter and cracking it open. “Exactly what mysterious thing was so pressing that you had to leave me stranded here on my own for an hour and a half?”

 

“Oh. It was, um... just some family thing. Kankri wanted to talk about some stupid shit. Don't worry about it,” Karkat said, looking away and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “Everything's fine.”

 

Dave shrugged. “Since you insist. Won't press” He held out the cup of beer he'd just poured. “Here.”

 

Karkat didn't take it at first, remembering back to what Kankri had said before he slowly took the cup. “Thanks.”

 

“What?” Dave asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you meant it when you said you weren't drinking anything?”

 

“No,” Karkat said, a little too quickly. “I-I don't know, I was just...” He shook his head, raising the cup to his lips. “Never mind.” He took a small drink and immediately grimaced a bit before he could suppress it.

 

“You've _had_ beer before, haven't you?” Dave asked, a small smirk spreading over his lips as he raised his own can to his mouth

 

“Yeah. Yeah, a couple times. I was just...” Karkat took another small drink and winced at the unimproved taste. “It's been a little while.”

 

“Yeah, well, warm beer ain't exactly a delicacy,” Dave said somewhat apologetically, finishing off his own beer. “But eventually you drunk enough, you won't mind the taste.”

 

“Who ever said I was getting drunk?” Karkat said as he took another longer sip. It got a little less disgusting the more he drank, and it actually had a half decent aftertaste.

 

Dave smirked. “You honestly think you're goin’ home sober? You've barely been here 10 minutes and you're already through your first beer.”

 

“Yeah, but I'm not gonna go home wasted either,” Karkat said back.

 

Dave only shrugged, getting himself a new beer and cracking open the tab. “If you're so sure?”

 

“And what exactly makes you so sure I'm wrong,” Karkat asked, setting down his now empty cup.

 

“Nothing, nothing. I just happen to know how these kinds of parties work. People don't come planning to--” He stopped for a second. “ _Most_ people don't come to parties planning to get completely fucking shitfaced, but it happens regardless. Haven't you seen any slice-of-life high school movie? You're the... quiet kid, the one whose much more outgoing friends drag him to a house party where it turns out he's actually a complete fuckin’ party animal when he's drunk. You know, lampshade on head, bottle permanently tucked under his arm, stumbles home wearing someone else's pants, that kinda thing.”

 

Karkat just looked at Dave. “Do you honestly think I'm that kind of person?”

 

“Maybe. We'll just have to see,” Dave said with a grin, handing Karkat another beer.

 

The two stayed in the kitchen for a little while, talking and drinking. Dave, he noticed, was burning through cans much faster than he was yet remained looking and acting the same, when Karkat started to feel light headed after only three. He glanced around the party surrounding them, at all the people Vriska had managed to cram into her one house. No one seemed to care much about the borderline overcrowding. They still mingled and talked, the occasional rowdy yell or sharp laugh rising above the noise of the voices and the music, as if they weren't packed in shoulder to shoulder like sardines.

 

“So,” Karkat said after a while, reaching to get another beer from the case. “What's this I'm always hearing about Vriska's parties?”

 

“Oh. They're nothing special, really,” Dave said with a shrug. “They're usually just like any old high school house party, complete with everyone's parents’ stolen booze and random people hooking up everywhere and the occasional overdramatic fist fight. Only remotely unique thing about her is how many she throws every year. Her parents are never home, practically, so she always has at least two or three every school year. Always has, ever since I was a freshman.” Dave put his cup to his lips, smirking a bit. “Ironic thing is she ain't even all that well liked. I mean, I know _I_ wouldn't go running to her for sappy 3am love advice. I'll bet you half of these people here hate her guts. Most of ‘em are just here for the free booze and the heavy implications of maybe drunk-fuckin’ someone. I know I sure am.”

 

Karkat let out a soft half chuckle, taking another sip of his beer. The party wasn't all that bad, he thought to himself. Yeah, it was loud and crowded and sweaty and borderline chaotic and everything he'd touched already felt sticky for some reason, but overall he felt ok. Maybe it was because he was on his fourth beer, but the whole of the party so far was nice.

 

“Well,” Dave said after a little while, “nice as it is to sit here and try to drink _all_ of Vriska's beer, we actually have somewhere to be right about now”

 

“Oh really?” Karkat asked. “And where exactly would that be?”

 

“Truth or dare. I'm sure Vriska and her lackeys are waiting for us in one of her innumerable back rooms, ‘cause I told her I'd bring you as soon as you got here, which was...” Dave checked his phone, “45 minutes ago.”

 

Karkat smirked a little as he got up. “Really? Truth or dare? What are we, fourth graders?”

 

“I don't set up the shit we do, I just participate,” Dave said, holding up his hands defensively before grabbing his wheels and rolling towards the hallway. “Who knows? Maybe Vriska just wants the chance to interrogate you while you're drunk.”

 

Karkat snorted softly. “I'm not drunk.”

 

“Yeah you are.”

 

“No I'm not. I've been drunk before, and I know I'm not drunk.”

 

Dave turned to look back at him and shrugged. “You're a little drunk. Tipsy, maybe. You're certainly no longer buzzed.”

 

“Well, I don't _feel_ very drunk,” Karkat countered.

 

“You never _really_ feel drunk until you're at least halfway to being wasted, though. Trust me, I know when someone's drunk.” Dave stopped in front of a half open door and listened for a moment before he pushed it open the rest of the way. “Here they are.”

 

Sure enough, when Karkat walked inside, he saw everyone from their lunch table, as well as a few people Karkat didn't recognize, sitting on the floor in a circle, chattering and laughing. They were practically surrounded by a forest of red solo cups and when Vriska turned to look at the door, Karkat could tell she was already drunk.

 

“Hey!” she shouted from across the room. “If it isn't everyone's favorite cripple. We've been waiting on you assholes for, like, an hour. What gives?”

 

“I wanted to make sure I got a little booze in him first,” Dave said calmly, wheeling over to their circle. “It wasn't like he would've wanted to see you when he was still sober.”

 

Vriska frowned, narrowing her eyes. “...Fair. I guess.” She looked over at Karkat as he sat next to Dave and gave him a tight smile. “But that's not true, is it? You love me, just like everyone else, right?”

 

“What do you think?” Karkat asked flatly. Vriska flipped him off, and he surveyed around the circle. Dave, who had gotten out of his wheelchair to sit on the ground with everyone else, was sitting next to John, and next to him was a kid he didn't recognize, with lots of messy black hair and a dopey, strung out grin plastered all over his face. There was another person to his right, and then Vriska, unfortunately directly across from him. Next to her was Equius, who if course had Nepeta clinging to him and giggling drunkenly, and finally to his right was Feferi, who was sitting quietly in place but whose telltale flushed cheeks told him she'd been drinking quite a bit as well.

 

Karkat glanced over at Dave. He somehow had a fresh beer in his hand, even though Karkat could have sworn he'd finished his old one in the kitchen. He didn't say anything about it though as he crossed his legs.

 

“So,” Vriska said eventually, leaning back on her arm and taking a long drink from her cup. “Now that we can _finally_ get this shit started, who wants to go first? How about...” She scanned her eyes around the circle, lingering on Karkat for a few seconds. He glared at her when she did, until she rolled her eyes and looked over at Feferi to her right. She smiled. “Feferi. Truth or dare?”

 

“Hm? Oh, um...” Feferi looked up at the ceiling and puffed out her red cheeks as she thought. “Dare.”

 

“I dare you to kiss me,” Vriska said simply.

 

Feferi’s eyebrows shot up as the rest of the room let out a collective “Ooo.” Her already rosy cheeks turned even pinker. Vriska just grinned, cocking an eyebrow at her.

 

“Uh,” Feferi stammered weakly. “O-oh.”

 

“Well?” Vriska asked over the din of voices. She gestured for everyone to be quiet before she spoke again. “Yes or no?”

 

“U-um,” Feferi stammered. She brushed a long lock of hair behind her ear and giggled nervously. “O-ok, I g--”

 

Before she could finish speaking, Vriska had darted over and grabbed her head and smashed their lips together. Everyone else started cheering as the kiss lingered on second by second. Eventually, Vriska pulled away, sitting back down with her lip gloss smeared and a smug look on her face, although her flushed cheeks gave away how she was really feeling. Feferi was blushing like mad, a sort of dazed look on her face. She sat back, her hand against her mouth and looked around. After a moment, she landed on someone.

 

“T... Truth or dare,” she mumbled to Nepeta.

 

As the game continued, all the usual stuff appeared: the I-dare-you-to-kiss-someone, the who-do-you-like, the dangerous dares, the borderline invasive truths. Someone, Karkat couldn't pinpoint who, kept them all supplied with beer. It was like he'd set down his empty cup and within the next moment it would be full again. After about an hour, Karkat's head was starting to feel seriously fuzzy, almost numb, and he couldn't seem to keep from giggling softly at everything everyone said, although luckily he was able to keep enough of his wits about him to not say anything incriminating about himself. Dave, he noticed, was still drinking much faster than him, but still didn't even seem remotely drunk. Karkat kept trying to figure out how this was, but he was ultimately too tipsy to focus on it for very long.

 

“Karkat. Truth or dare.”

 

“Huh?” Karkat looked up and found Vriska and the rest of the circle staring at him intently. She was visibly much drunker than earlier, but she still had her usual stupid grin plastered on her face.

 

“I don't think I've bothered you enough yet tonight,” she said with a shrug, slurring her words just a tiny bit. “Plus, it's your turn. Truth or dare.”

 

Karkat's face flared even hotter. “Oh. Um.” He cut his eyes over to Dave for a second, who simply raised his eyebrows at him, and then mumbled, “Truth. I guess. I don't know.”

 

Vriska smirked. “Perfect. Tell me who you like. I dare you.”

 

Karkat stopped for a moment, thrown off by the question as the rest of the circle started up with another chorus of “oohs” and cheering. Dave, who had been bringing his cup to his lips, faltered a bit and looked over at him. Karkat felt the blush on his cheeks slowly spread down his neck. After a few seconds, he managed to shake himself out of it enough to frown at Vriska. “That's a shitty question. Pick a better one.”

 

“No. That's the question I asked, so you have to answer it. That's how the game works,” Vriska said with another shit eating grin. “So I ask again: who do you like?”

 

“N-no one,” Karkat said flatly, kicking himself for letting his voice shake.

 

Vriska glanced over at Dave beside him and smirked. “You sure?”

 

Karkat's face got even hotter. “Yes.”

 

“ _Positive_?”

 

“ _Yes_.”

 

“Mmm, I dunno. _Some of us_ would beg to differ. You sure there isn't _anyone_? Nobody at _all_?” she asked, not so subtly nodding her head in Dave’s direction.

 

“No, I-- I'm not telling you that,” Karkat said with a scowl.

 

“Those are the rules of the game, Karkitty,” Vriska said. “You pick truth, you tell the truth and nothin’ but. You gonna follow ‘em or not?”

 

Karkat scowled at her, his palms starting to tingle. “I'm...” He looked around the circle of people and briefly over at Dave before he frowned and stood up. “I... I have to go.”

 

“Aw, boo, don't be like that,” Vriska pouted, sticking her bottom lip out. “Just take one for the team. I mean, I know we've all been just _dying_ to know whether the rumors are true or not.” He could hear Vriska giggle a little on the last work as he pushed open the door and left. He leaned back against the wall and put his head in his hands.

 

Karkat sighed softly. He hated being put on the spot like that. And especially not when Dave was right there. He hated the way his whole face felt like it was on fire, how it felt like the whole room was staring at him just waiting for him to say something wrong so they could tease him even more for it.

 

Karkat shoved his hand into his pocket, slipping out his lighter and his cigarettes. He didn't care if he was indoors, and he especially didn't care that it in was Vriska's house. He lit up and took a long drag. He tipped his head back against the wall and exhaled the smoke, already feeling a little better. He only got in a couple more drags before he hear the door start to creak open again. Instinctively, he rushed to snuff his cigarette out before whoever it was came out and saw him.

 

It was Dave. When they saw each other, both could see the other relax a tiny bit. Dave glanced around, his nose twitching ever so slightly as he did.

 

“Hey,” he said. Just as before, somewhat infuriatingly, he sounded completely sober. His voice was soft, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear them, and surprisingly gentle. “You alright?”

 

Karkat crossed his arms over his chest, looking down as he propped his foot back against the wall. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I was just-- I-I needed some air. Y'know.”

 

Dave smiled a little bit. “Not exactly the best place for a lungful of fresh air.”

 

“Yeah,” Karkat said, smiling a little himself. “I guess not.”

 

A long awkward silence hung between the two of them, as each struggled to think of something to talk about besides the obvious.

 

“Do you, um,” Karkat mumbled after a little while, “know where the bathroom is?”

 

“Oh. Yeah. It's... down there. First door on the right,” Dave said a little too quickly, pointing down the hallway.

 

“Thanks.” As he turned to leave, Dave stopped him.

 

“Um-- You're... Should we... w-wait for you?” he stammered softly.

 

“Oh.” Karkat looked down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “I don't know. I don't really like party games that much.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I have to... go now,” Karkat mumbled, nodding down the hallway. His neck was starting to get warm again.

 

“Oh. Yeah. See you around.”

 

Karkat walked down the hallway to the bathroom, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He tried his best to shake the awkward encounter out of his mind, instead letting himself be absorbed in the activity around him. According to his phone, it was 10:20, but the party was still abuzz with excitement. He passed more than a few couples making out in the hallway, including Kanaya and Rose in a little alcove in the corner. He was a little surprised to see them all over each other, but he didn't say anything to them. When he reached the bathroom, he kept walking, eventually settling into wandering around the unfamiliar house. He pulled out a new cigarette and smoked it as he walked, his nerves and embarrassment slowly disappearing. Every so often, he'd end up back in the kitchen to get another drink and after another hour he found it was a little hard to walk straight.

 

Karkat flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, clearing his throat and leaning against the wall. He sighed, pulling out his phone and checking the time. He was starting to get bored on his own, and there was no damn way he was gonna hang out with Vriska, but he also didn't know where Dave had gone.

 

“Pst. Hey.”

 

Karkat stopped. He looked around, not knowing where the voice had come from. He was nearly alone in the hallway, and everyone around was either passed out or ignoring him.

 

“Over here, KitKat.”

 

It sounded familiar. And it sounded like it was coming from his right. He turned around, and found there was a door just about half a foot from him. It was cracked open wide enough that Karkat wondered how he hadn't noticed it earlier, and when he approached it, he found Dave sitting on the bed. He was leaning back on one of his elbows and he smiled when he saw Karkat. He beckoned him forward with one finger. “C’mon. I don't bite.”

 

“I didn't know where you were,” Karkat said as he entered. Dave’s wheelchair was sitting empty next to the bed, and in Dave’s left hand was a half full green bottle. He took a swig from it and patted the spot next to him. Karkat sat beside him. Even in the relatively dim light of the room, he could see that his cheeks were bright red.

 

“Yeah, well I have a habit of disappearing like that,” Dave said with a shrug. “There's only so much drunk Vriska I can deal with at any given time. She knows that.” Dave took another short swig of whatever was in his bottle. “You're one to talk, though. Where exactly did _you_ scuttle off to? She only asked you one question. Would've expected you'd last at least two or three.”

 

“Oh. I don't know. She was just being fucking annoying or whatever,” Karkat said. “I needed some air.”

 

“You sure it wasn't ‘bout what she asked?” Dave said with a grin.

 

“Fuck you,” Karkat said, shoving Dave gently. “Like I'd tell you that. What about you? Why are you just sitting here in the dark drinking... whatever that is? I thought you were supposed to be some kinda big popular... cool guy who's got a billion friends.”

 

“Well, one, you're not _exactly_ wrong, two, I don't really know myself but it's strong and it tastes decent, so I like it. Some kind of ale, maybe. And three...” Dave shrugged, taking another drink. “I dunno. I just like bein’ on my own sometimes, I guess. It's just how I am when I'm drunk.”

 

“Oh, so _now_ you're drunk,” Karkat muttered, laying back on the bed and draping his arm over his eyes. “What about an hour and a half ago?”

 

Dave chuckled. “I never said I wasn't before.”

 

“You didn't fuckin’ act like it.”

 

“I already told you, _I_ actually know how to hold my liquor. Been doin’ this shit since I was 12.”

 

“Really?” Karkat asked, sitting back up.

 

“Mm hmm. Sounds kinda weird sayin’ it out loud, but yeah. But that's a whole other can ‘a worms I don't wanna get into while I'm wasted. Long story short, I'm great at being drunk but not good at acting like it. That make any sense?”

 

“No. Nothing you've ever said has ever made any sense,” Karkat mumble, laying back down. “Everything that's ever come out of your mouth has just been complete and utter bullshit.”

 

“Well aren't you just a barrel of goddamn laughs when you're drunk,” Dave said, running his finger along the lip of his bottle.

 

Karkat muttered something under his breath, running a hand through his hair and flipping Dave off as well. He was quiet for a moment, the only sound his own soft breathing and the slosh of the liquid Dave was drinking. He rolled back up into a sitting position, pressing his hand against his forehead.

 

“I told my brother I wasn't gonna drink,” Karkat mumbled, half to himself. “He made me promise.”

 

“‘S a little late for that, I'd say,” Dave said.

 

“It's his own damn fault anyways. He can't tell me what to do. He's not my dad, he's my brother. It's not like he actually has any fucking power.”

 

“Well he's your legal guardian, isn't he?”

 

“Yeah, but he keeps trying t’ fucking... _coddle_ me or whatever,” Karkat said, slurring together a few of the words. “Like I'm some... little fucking kid. I can handle own damn self.”

 

Dave laughed, knocking back the rest of his drink. “You always this angry when you're drunk?”

 

“I'm not angry I'm jus’ mad,” Karkat slurred tiredly.

 

Dave only giggled again, shaking his head.

 

“Fuck you,” Karkat muttered. “I'm drunk.”

 

“Well so am I and you don't see _me_ gettin’ synonyms mixed up.” Dave smiled and laughed quietly when Karkat started muttering curse words under his breath. He reached to take another drink when he realized his bottle was empty. “Shit,” he murmured. He set it on the side table and then turned to Karkat. “Well. Looks like I'm fresh outta booze, so I guess I gotta actually pay attention to you now.”

 

“We've been talking for an hour,” Karkat said.

 

“It's been like half an hour.”

 

“40 minutes.”

 

“Fair. But I mean _really_ talk y'know? The kinda talking that you forget about in the morning, where you accidentally reveal a bunch of shitty personal stuff that you'd be dead of embarrassment over if you could ever remember half of it.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“We never finished that truth or dare game of ours,” Dave offered.

 

“No fuckin’ way.”

 

“Ah, c’mon, KitKat. It doesn't have to be like an _actual_ game, it can just be... chill. Booze fueled interrogation between two friends. How about that?”

 

“Is this just some kind of half assed attempt to get me to tell you who I like?” Karkat muttered, sitting all the way back up and glaring at Dave.

 

“No.” When Karkat only glared at him, he held up his hands defensively. “I'm serious. I'm too drunk to come up with some convoluted schemey way to weasel it outta you anyways. I'm just bored. I don't wanna go home yet. I mean, c’mon it's only 11:50, party's only just gettin’ _started_.”

 

Karkat snorted softly, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But only because you won't fuckin’ shut up about it.” He started fishing around in his pocket for his cigarettes.

 

Dave grinned. “Great. I'll go first; truth or dare?”

 

“Truth,” Karkat said as he tapped out a cigarette and flicked on Cronus's lighter. “I don't trust drunk you’s dares.”

 

Dave watched him as he lit up and took a drag. “Since when do you smoke?”

 

“Since six months ago. Why? You gonna try and lecture me about how smoking kills or whatever the fuck?”

 

“Look at who you're talkin’ to,” Dave said, quirking an eyebrow. “I was just curious. I didn't know you were so _rebellious_.”

 

“There's a lot you don't know about me,” Karkat said. He exhaled a stream of smoke. “Truth or dare.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“What the hell is the deal with those fucking sunglasses of yours?” he asked, pointing at the pair still perched on his forehead. “I've never seen you wear them and they just make you look like an asshole if you have them like that.”

 

“Oh. These.” Dave reached up to take them down, looking them over. “Nostalgia reasons. Reminds me of some stuff from when I was younger.”

 

Karkat glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow at him. Dave waved it off. “Won't go into it now,” he said, folding them up and putting them in his pocket. “You can ask sober me. Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Why'd you move down here? I mean I'm no expert, but Houston, Texas ain't really most people's dream city.”

 

“My brother. He was moving down here with his fiancé and I had to go with them, ‘cause my dad's... not here right now.” He put his cigarette back between his lips. “Truth or dare.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“What's with the pictures?”

 

Dave shrugged. “Old childhood hobby. Clinging to it for nostalgia reasons. Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Why do you smoke?”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes. “It's fun, I guess. Makes me feel better sometimes.”

 

“You aren't worried about, say, lung cancer?” Dave asked.

 

Karkat only snorted. “Truth or dare.”

 

“Hmm... Dare. Change it up a little.”

 

Karkat thought for a moment. He took another drag and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils. “I dare you to take a hit,” he said, holding out his cigarette.

 

“I don't smoke,” Dave said.

 

“So? It's a dare, and it's only one drag anyways. It's not like you're gonna die from it,” Karkat said.

 

Dave looked at him for a moment and then sighed. “Fine,” he said, taking the cigarette from him. “How do you--” Dave brought it to his lips and took a short hesitant puff before collapsing into a fit of coughs. Karkat snickered at him and took back his cigarette.

 

“Tastes like shit,” Dave choked out.

 

“You get used to it.”

 

“How do you even fucking--” Dave rubbed his hand down his face, coughing and gagging. “Quit--” cough “--laughing at me. I told you I don't smoke.” He cleared his throat and spat next to the side table. “Fuck. Truth or dare.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“How you liking it here so far? Is it much different from where you used to live?”

 

“Mm hmm. It's alright, I guess, so far. I mean, it's not back home, but it's not bad, really.” Karkat gently tapped a bit of ash from the tip of his cigarette. “I just miss my old town a lot. It's different. I miss my old friends.”

 

“Makes sense,” Dave said, leaning his elbows on his legs and putting his chin in his hand. “It'd suck if I had to move away from everyone I know here.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“‘Least you have me, though, right?” Dave asked, gently nudging Karkat, who just smiled.

 

“Truth or dare,” he said softly, leaning over so he could snuff out the butt of his cigarette on the side table.

 

“Truth.”

 

“What's it like being in a wheelchair?”

 

Dave looked over at him and smirked a little. “Goin’ for the hard hitting shit, I see.”

 

“Oh. You don't--”

 

“It's fine. I'm long past getting sad over it.” Dave sat up straight, rubbing his neck with one hand. “I don't know. I mean, it's certainly not walking. It's... different, I guess. The world looks different. People treat you different. Everything feels different. Like all of a sudden there's just a whole other world you don't get to be a part of anymore.”

 

“Oh,” Karkat said softly.

 

“Yeah,” Dave murmured. “It's a real change. But you can get pretty used to it pretty fast. Truth or dare?”

 

“...Truth.”

 

“Are you _really_ only five foot?”

 

“Yes. Why, did you think I was lying?”

 

“No, it's just weird. You're the shortest person my age I've ever met.”

 

“Well if it helps my brother's only 5’ 5”,” Karkat muttered. “Runs in the family I guess. Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Um...” Karkat blew air up at his bangs as he thought. “Who's your best friend?”

 

“Easy. John.”

 

“Really? What about me?” Karkat said jokingly.

 

“Nah. Unfortunately, John’s got you beat by a mile. We've known each other since we were just little kids. We were nearly inseparable when we were younger. We did everything together.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Yeah,” Dave said. After a beat of silence, he added, “We even dated for a few months when we were twelve.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Yeah. Don't tell him I said, but he's a pretty shitty kisser.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. Maybe it was just ‘cause he was twelve, but he was horrible. Never really knew what to do with his tongue.”

 

Karkat giggled softly, covering his mouth with his hand. He looked over at Dave, who was grinning as well. He looked nice when he smiled, like he was genuine about whatever it was that had made him happy. It was especially great whenever he smiled at something Karkat said. It made him feel good, like he'd done something special.

 

“Truth or dare?” Dave asked once Karkat had gotten his giggles under control.

 

“Truth.”

 

Dave was quiet for a moment. The grin he had on before fell a bit and came back as something different; something a little shyer and a little more timid. He glanced over at Karkat and then looked down, running a hand through his hair.

 

“You ever kissed anyone?” he asked softly.

 

Karkat was a little surprised by the question. It took him a moment for the words to register in his head, and then suddenly he felt his neck blush.

 

“Y-yeah,” he said. “Of course.”

 

“Really.” It sounded like more of a statement than a question.

 

“Yes. I'm 16, what do you expect?”

 

“ I know, I know,” Dave said. “Just... I mean like, have you ever... _kissed_ someone? Like _really_ kissed them.”

 

Karkat looked over at Dave, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Dave himself looked weird too, like he was uncomfortable, almost. His eyes were more darting than usual and he kept glancing over at Karkat just to look away a second later.

 

Dave glanced at him again and sighed, this time looking ahead at the wall and not looking back. “I mean like... when it's someone you like. Not just some shitty dare or a game of fuckin’ Spin the Bottle or whatever. I mean when it's someone you've been thinking about kissing for the longest time, someone you've been _wanting_ to kiss for the longest time.” Dave glanced over at Karkat for a split second. “Wh-when you... finally get the chance, and you know ‘this is it,’ and you're nervous, but you're too excited to care, and then you get to just be by them for a sec and smell their scent, the one you've been thinking about nonstop forever, and feel the heat wafting off of them and you can see into their eyes and it's the closest you've ever been to another person, and hell, you half didn't even think you could ever physically _be_ this close to another person, but you are, and they're right there... And then they look at you and you look at them and you don't even have to say anything, the two of you just...” Dave trailed off, still staring at the wall. He had a sort of dazed, dreamy look on his face, like he was only half there. He looked over at Karkat. “Like that. Have you ever...?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

 

Karkat shook his head a little bit. “No.” His own voice was barely audible as well. “I don't think so.”

 

“It has to be with someone you like,” Dave murmured, his lips hardly moving. Karkat watched them as he spoke. They were just a little bit chapped from him licking them too much, like usual.

 

“I know,” Karkat whispered, scarcely breathing.

 

The air in the room was almost deathly still, with neither of the two moving hardly an inch. Karkat was staring directly into Dave’s bright crimson eyes, which were in turn trained on Karkat's mahogany ones. Karkat could feel his heartbeat all throughout his body, hard and fast and muffled beneath the silence of the room. Somehow, he'd ended up much closer to Dave than he'd been when he first sat down, and he was suddenly aware of how much it smelled like him. Like warm apples, and a bit of metal.

 

Dave’s eyes moved a tiny bit, looking down at Karkat's lips. They lingered here for no more than three seconds, and when he returned his gaze to Karkat's he gently bit his own bottom lip.

 

No one would have been able to say which of the two moved first. They had both been slowly inching towards each other and it had barely taken any momentum at all for their lips to meet.

 

It tasted like alcohol, thin and medicinal. A mix of beer and whatever Dave had been drinking earlier. And the smoke from Karkat's cigarettes clung on like an aftertaste, like the last dying wisps of a fire. Flames and liquor. Equal parts burning and intoxicating.

 

Dave's lips _were_ chapped, just a tiny bit, but they were also so much softer than Karkat had ever been able to imagine by himself. The whole of it was so much different than what Karkat had imagined, and it was much, much better. It was also much gentler than he'd been expecting, almost shy in nature. As if Dave were hesitant and unsure. It made his heart start beating faster, the sound loud and dull in his ears. This close, he could feel how hard Dave was blushing as well.

 

After a few seconds, Dave lifted his hand to gently cup Karkat's cheek, his fingers just barely ghosting over his warm skin. Another moment later, they pulled apart, still hardly an inch apart. They were breathing a little heavier, half from the lack of air and half from quiet awe. Karkat opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd shut, and looked at Dave, his entire face burning fiercely. Dave looked just as surprised. His eyes seemed softer now, more sincere--vulnerable, almost--even through the haze of alcohol. He let out a soft sigh as he looked at Karkat. They hesitantly moved closer together, their lips just barely bumping and sending tingles through Karkat. Slowly, their lips met again, this time more firmly.

 

The second time was different. It was much more assured, and when Dave let his palm lay flat against Karkat's cheek, it took on a much less innocent nature. Karkat shifted towards Dave, tilting his head to the side a bit. Dave moved his hand to cup the back of Karkat's head, pressing into him a little more. Slowly the two of them moved their lips against each other's, the tingling Karkat felt in his chest getting more intense and spreading across his body. He moved again, getting even closer to Dave and kissing him harder. Dave kissed him back for a few seconds of burning bliss before he pulled away a bit, his cheeks flushed.

 

“Do you...” he said softly.

 

Karkat nodded breathlessly, impatiently leaning forward so they could go back to kissing. Dave didn't hesitate either, tightening his grip on Karkat's jaw and kissing him back hungrily. All of a sudden, they both knew what they wanted and they were kissing desperately, clinging to each other and just barely unable to get enough of one another. Dave gently prodded his tongue against Karkat's mouth, and the other boy didn't hesitate to let him in. He nearly moaned out loud from the pleasurable shiver that ran down his spine when their tongues met. The longer it went on the more lustful Karkat felt as everything he'd been fantasizing about for the past month was finally coming true. It felt so good he could hardly stand it.

 

Dave suddenly moved his mouth to press an open mouthed kiss against Karkat's jaw. “You're so--” he breathed, kissing his way over to his ear and then down his neck. He went from kissing to sucking and licking, earning a stiff whimper from Karkat. He craned his neck to the side, giving Dave more room, and had to bite his lip to keep from making any louder noises.

 

Dave moved to a new spot, just under his ear and started back up with the sucking and kissing. After a little while Karkat felt a short sting as Dave hesitantly closed his teeth around a section of his skin.

 

“No,” Karkat said breathlessly. “No marks. I can't--” He was cut off by Dave kissing him again, firmly and desperately, running his thumb over his cheek as he did. Karkat practically melted into his embrace, forgetting what he was going to say before. They kissed for a few more minutes until Karkat broke away again, resting his forehead against Dave’s. They kissed once more, and then a second time before Karkat was able to speak.

 

“What-- What time is it?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath.

 

“I don't know. After 12, I think.”

 

Karkat sighed softly, shaking his head a tiny bit. “I have to go. My brother's gonna kill me if I'm late.”

 

Dave nodded a little, his chest still rising and falling. “Oh. Ok.”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“It's ok. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me. I have to leave soon too anyways.”

 

Karkat nodded silently. He found Dave's hand and gently placed his on top of it. He looked at Dave, staring into his ruby red eyes. Just seeing them made his chest felt warm again and he had to resist the urge to kiss him again.

 

Karkat closed his eyes and looked down. “I'll... see you later.”

 

“Bye,” Dave said softly.

 

Karkat pulled away from Dave and stood up. He walked to the door and stepped outside, shutting it behind him. He leaned back against the door, holding his hand against his chest. He brushed his fingers over his lips. He closed his eyes, remembering the way Dave's lips had felt pressed against his, how soft they were, how warm he was, how gently he touched him. He let a small smile grace his lips for a moment before he pulled out his phone to text Cronus to come pick him up.

 

As Karkat walked through the house to the front door, he saw that the party was finally winding down. There were still a few people talking here and there and the occasional couple jammed into the corner, but for the most part people were sprawled out and unconscious on any available surface there was. He even had to step over a few people who'd passed out on the ground behind a couple of the couches. When he got outside, he saw Vriska sitting on the porch, her elbow on her knee and her chin in her one hand and a red plastic cup on the other. She was gently swirling the cup as she sat, staring out at the road silently. She noticed Karkat as he stood waiting for Cronus, and sat up a little bit.

 

“Going so soon?” she called after him.

 

“Yeah,” Karkat said, looking at the ground. “I have a curfew.”

 

“Oh. Ok.” Vriska looked down in her cup and took a small drink. She looked back at Karkat just as Cronus pulled up. She held up her hand and waved. “Bye.”

 

Karkat didn't reply to her as he climbed in the backseat. He was quiet the whole way home, and halfway there his eyelids started getting heavy and he had to struggle to keep himself awake long enough to walk through the front door. He flopped down on his bed when he got in, suddenly drained of energy. Almost as soon as he closed his eyes, he was fast asleep.

 

He dreamt of Dave.

 

*****

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh hey guys!!
> 
> so this goddamn monster of a chapter is finally published, thank god ((its literally 9500 words long pray for me))
> 
> i feel,,, very good about this chapter. i like it alot i think its very well written and i hope yall will like it too :>
> 
> since i have this weird thing where i apparently have to “””rest””” between chapters expect a little more time between now and chapter 13. hopefully no more than a week longer than usual ((but no promises))
> 
> i am indeed done with school((!!!!!!!!!)), i have been for about a week and a half, however i do have summer school during both june and july ((im taking speech pray for me)) so that might delay stuff a little bit. i dont expect it to though since im not as school not as long as during the school year.
> 
> even though i now have no idea how this story is really gonna get where i want it to be, im excited for the rest of it!!
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter.


	14. Chapter 13

When I woke up, I was thankfully tucked in my bed, my clothes from last night still on and messily twisted around my body, and my wheelchair a good foot away from my bed, which meant I _hadn't_ passed out in some alleyway, which was already great news for me. I sat up slowly, pressing my hand against my feverish forehead and wincing when the bright morning light shined in my eye. My head was felt like someone was banging on my skull with a sledgehammer and my mouth tasted absolutely fucking horrible.

 

“Ugh,” I muttered, rubbing at my temples. I rubbed my hand down my face and sighed. As I did, I noticed the surprisingly loud sound of my phone vibrating wildly on my side table. That must've been what woke me up, since I hadn't set any alarms or anything, and waking up at 9am on a Saturday wasn't exactly my thing. I leaned over to pick it up, grabbing my shades as well. I slid them on, grateful for the relief they provided, and checked my phone and sure enough, I had 5 unread messages from Karkat.

 

KARKAT: HEY.

 

KARKAT: ASSHOLE.

 

KARKAT: I FEEL LIKE I’M DYING

 

KARKAT: AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL LIKE IM DYING?

 

KARKAT: HOW DO I FIX IT?

 

I smirked to myself, laying back down as I texted him back.

 

DAVE: well i see someone made it back alright

 

KARKAT: WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THERE’S A GODDAMN DEMOLITION GOING ON IN MY HEAD

 

DAVE: welcome to your first hangover

 

KARKAT: NO, I’VE BEEN HUNGOVER BEFORE.

 

KARKAT: THIS IS

 

KARKAT: THIS IS SOME WHOLE OTHER CROCK OF SHITTINESS. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS.

 

DAVE: you first *real* hangover then

 

DAVE: this aint no four hour headache the day after you drank three wine coolers

 

DAVE: you actually got pretty drunk last night

 

DAVE: congratulations

 

KARKAT: SHUT THE FUCK UP.

 

KARKAT: WHY DO YOU SOUND SO FUCKING CHEERY ANYWAYS? YOU DRANK WAY MORE THAN I DID.

 

DAVE: two answers

 

DAVE: one

 

DAVE: im a bomb ass liar my heads actually killing me

 

DAVE: and two dont forget the whole binge drinking thing

 

DAVE: im kind of used to feeling like im dying

 

DAVE: but for real dont worry youll be fine

 

DAVE: couple tylenol and a fuck ton of water and youll be good as new

 

KARKAT: I FEEL LIKE MY HEAD’S EXPLODING.

 

DAVE: youll be alright

 

DAVE: itll pass eventually

 

KARKAT: DOESN’T FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT.

 

DAVE: all this suffering at least tell me you had a little bit of a good time at the party

 

KARKAT: I GUESS.

 

KARKAT: IT WASN’T *AS* TERRIBLE AS I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE.

 

DAVE: see isnt it all worth it then

 

KARKAT: VRISKA WAS... SURPRISINGLY TAME.

 

KARKAT: I EXPECTED HER TO BE A LOT WORSE.

 

DAVE: yeah shes alright once you get a good amount of liquor in her

 

DAVE: she really mellows out

 

KARKAT: YEAH.

 

KARKAT: AND THE REST OF IT WAS NICE TOO I GUESS.

 

KARKAT: ESP

 

Karkat didn't reply for a few minutes after that.

 

DAVE: ?

 

DAVE: whats esp

 

DAVE: hello

 

KARKAT: SORRY. I GOT DISTRACTED.

 

DAVE: what were you gonna say about esp

 

DAVE: was it something from last night or whatever

 

KARKAT: OH. UM

 

KARKAT: NOTHING. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT .

 

KARKAT: I DON'T REALLY REMEMBER ALL OF IT THAT WELL.

 

DAVE: yeah that happens

 

DAVE: ive learned not to trust the shit i do when im drunk

 

DAVE: risk versus reward and all that i guess

 

He wasn't telling me something. I could tell. I was almost certain I knew what it was, but I wasn't exactly all that thrilled to talk about it either, so instead I just brushed it off for the time being. Another problem for another day.

 

DAVE: so what do you say

 

DAVE: was it worth it

 

KARKAT: YEAH. I GUESS IT WAS.

 

KARKAT: I HAD *SOME* FUN.

 

DAVE: cool so ill see you at the next one then right

 

KARKAT: WHAT DO YOU MEAN “NEXT ONE?”

 

DAVE: you really think vriskas only havin one party this whole year

 

DAVE: over her dead body

 

DAVE: best guess puts it somewhere around halloween

 

KARKAT: REALLY?

 

DAVE: yeah

 

DAVE: and thats not even including holidays

 

DAVE: which for some ass backwards reason she thinks everyone wants to spent packed like sardines into her house drenched in beer and sweat

 

DAVE: its kind of ridiculous

 

KARKAT: YEAH. IT SOUNDS LIKE IT.

 

DAVE: but i mean im not complaining

 

KARKAT: AND YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU GO TO... ALL OF THEM?

 

DAVE: no not all necessarily

 

DAVE: just whichever ones happen to line up with my need to drink

 

KARKAT: ...YOU SOUND LIKE AN ALCOHOLIC.

 

DAVE: well you wouldnt be too far off

 

KARKAT: I DON'T KNOW. I MIGHT GO. I'M NOT SO SURE RIGHT NOW. I'LL THINK ABOUT IT.

 

KARKAT: I HAVE TO GO NOW THOUGH

 

DAVE: what more family stuff to take care of

 

KARKAT: NO. I JUST WANT TO GO FEEL LIKE I'M DYING IN PEACE.

 

DAVE: literally just take some aspirin and drink some coffee

 

DAVE: youll be fine i swear

 

KARKAT: UH HUH.

 

DAVE: talk to you later

 

I closed out of our conversation and set my phone beside me. I ran a hand through my hair before I sat all the way up, grimacing when the room started spinning as I did, and pulled my wheelchair over to my bed so I could go to the kitchen. Before I left, I just barely remembered to slip off my sunglasses. Didn't want Dirk getting suspicious.

 

As I approached the kitchen, I heard soft murmuring and giggling in what sounded like Dirk’s voice. It sounded way out of place, and when I went around the corner I found out why. Jake was leaning one arm on the kitchen island, facing Dirk and smiling as he said something. He was fully dressed, with that messenger bag of his sitting at his feet. Dirk was sitting on one of the stools, dressed in pajama pants and a hoodie that I didn't recognize, leaning his chin on one hand and drumming his fingertips on the countertop with his other. He was swinging his foot back and forth and it looked like he was leaning towards Jake a lot. I watched as Jake said something else and Dirk laughed, his voice unusually high pitched. I cleared my throat.

 

“Oh, hey, you guys,” I said when Dirk whipped around and glared at me. “Didn't see y’all there.” I smiled at him as I wheeled over to the kitchen. He flipped me off.

 

“Oh. Hello, Dave,” Jake said, looking over at me.

 

“‘S up.”

 

“He was just leaving,” Dirk said quickly, standing up and bending down to pick up Jake's bag. He pressed it into his hands and looked up at him. “Isn't that right?”

 

“Oh. Um. Y-yeah. I suppose I can't invade on your morning too much. I mean, I-I've got stuff to do anyways,” Jake said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He looked down at Dirk as well. “Er-- We're still on for later, right?”

 

“Mm hmm. 7 o’ clock. Is it ok if I meet you there?”

 

“Yeah. I might be a little bit late though.”

 

“That's fine, don't worry about it,” Dirk said, placing his hand against Jake's chest and gazing up at him. He looked back at me and frowned just a bit. “I'll... call you.”

 

“Ok. Bye,” Jake said, leaning down to kiss Dirk on the top of the head. Dirk hardly even reacted as he kept staring at me. Jake glanced at me as he walked over to the door and opened it. I waved at him.

 

“Don't wave at my boyfriend,” Dirk said when Jake was gone, walking past me so he could smack me.

 

“Oh, so you're boyfriends now?” I said with a grin, turning to follow him around the kitchen. “I coulda sworn you were just ‘friends’ a week ago.”

 

Dirk didn't say anything. He sighed and opened the fridge, pulling out the water jug. “Well.”

 

“So what were you and your _boyfriend_ up to last night, huh? He just left at, what, 10:30?” I leaned my elbows on the counter and raised my eyebrows. “‘S pretty fuckin’ late if you were just talking--”

 

“None of your business.”

 

“At least tell me something. Don't leave me guessing. I wanna make sure you didn't spend the whole night complaining to him about how much you missed me.”

 

“Like I'd ever miss that ugly mug of yours,” Dirk muttered, reaching over to flick one of my loose curls. “But if you absolutely _have_ to know for whatever twisted reason you have now, we had sex. In your bed. Forty times.”

 

“Really,” I said. “In a row? Or did you take snack breaks ever hour and a half.”

 

“Nah, we just kind of marathoned it. If you thought your sheets were sticky last night, that's why.”

 

I nodded. “Y'know I thought my pillow was kind of smelly this morning. So what's so good about my bed, huh?”

 

“Nothin’. Just did it to piss you off” Dirk muttered, bringing his glass of water to his lips. He smiled a bit. “It was good. It's nice and firm, which was especially good since I was c--”

 

“Mm mm,” I said, shaking my head and holding out my hand. “That's enough. TMI.”

 

“Don't act like you didn't ask. asked. When did you get back home last night? I went to bed at like 11 or something. I don't remember hearing you.”

 

“12:30. Just like you told me to. I got John to drop me off.”

 

“Mm.” Dirk swallowed and then set down his cup. “He drove you home.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I assume that means he wasn't drunk, by which I then assume means _you_ weren't drunk either. Am I wrong?”

 

“Nope,” I said, crossing my arms on the counter. “You're 100% right. Didn't drink a sip. And you'll be pleased to know I was indeed threatened at gun point to take some shots, but I politely declined.”

 

“Dave.”

 

I grinned a bit. “Fine, fine. But for real, though, I didn't drink anything.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Mm hmm.”

 

Dirk looked me up and down for a moment. “No sunglasses,” he murmured softly after a bit.

 

“Well, I don't need them, y'know, since I'm not hungover,” I said as my head throbbed painfully.

 

Dirk looked at me for another moment and then nodded. “Good. I'm proud of you.”

 

“You don't have to be. I mean, I told you you could trust me, but thanks anyways.”

 

“Yeah, but I also know you have a tendency to lie,” Dirk said. “It's refreshing whenever you tell the truth.”

 

I frowned at him. “I don't lie that much.”

 

“Mm _hmm_ ,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he did. “So when's the next one? I mean, I _assume_ there's going to be a next one, right? Vriska's the one who throws about twenty a year?”

 

“Yep. Probably next month, next three or four weeks. I dunno. Depends on what kind of arbitrary holiday she decides she wants everyone to celebrate this time.” I rolled my eyes, wheeling over to the fridge so I could get a glass of water for myself. “Probably something shitty. But if you're still so excited about it, I'll see if I can't snag you an invite.”

 

“Much obliged,” Dirk murmured, walking over and getting a cup for me. I got the water pitcher from the counter and poured myself a glass, hoping it would help my headache like it usually does. Silence hung in the air as I took a long drink. I saw Dirk reach up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, the ends of his hoodie’s sleeves pulled up past his palms.

 

“So, I forgot to ask, about you and Jake,” I said, setting down my cup and running my finger along the rim.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Did you get that sweater from him before or after you fucked?” I asked, propping my head up on my fist.

 

“I'm taking a shower,” Dirk said flatly, turning and walking away. I chuckled as he left.

 

“Just wanna make sure you two are being safe!” I shouted after him. I heard him yell back something that sounded like “Fuck you,” and then the sound of his bedroom door closing. I grinned again.

 

I drank the rest of my water, trying to stretch it out as long as I could until I heard the sound of the shower. Once it was on, I cast a glance over my shoulder and then went to the medicine cabinet to get the bottle of ibuprofen. I might've been used to a hangover, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt like hell. I shook out a couple and swallowed them dry and hurried to replace them and go into my room, even though I knew Dirk couldn't have possibly heard me. Paranoia, and all that.

 

I went back to my room and laid back down on my bed, sighing loudly as I sank back into my pillows. I pulled out my phone. No new texts from Karkat. But it did look like John had texted me a little bit ago.

 

JOHN: i’ll assume you're not even a little hungover, right?

 

DAVE: thats not true

 

DAVE: i can just hold my liquor much better than you

 

JOHN: ughhhh i feel horrible

 

DAVE: cant say i feel bad for you

 

DAVE: you know under aged drinking is bad and all

 

JOHN: you’re sure one to talk >:B

 

DAVE: shut up

 

DAVE: i was in a car accident remember

 

DAVE: dont act like you didnt have fun though

 

JOHN: yeah, i guess. it was a pretty good party

 

DAVE: eh itd get a solid 3/5 in my book

 

JOHN: ?

 

DAVE: cmon man all she had was beer

 

DAVE: i had to search through all her shit for ten minutes until i found something that could *actually* get me drunk

 

DAVE: thats shitty party planning as i see it

 

JOHN: oh, that reminds me. where exactly did you run off to halfway through the game?

 

DAVE: oh

 

DAVE: nowhere really i just got bored

 

DAVE: wanted to see some other shit

 

DAVE: what did happen after i left though i was meaning to ask

 

JOHN: nothing much. vriska just got shittier once she started getting super drunk

 

JOHN: and then she just got tired and quiet and then eventually everyone just got up and left on their own

 

JOHN: i assume she didn’t care though, because when i left she just waved at me

 

DAVE: well you know how much she mellows out when shes wasted

 

JOHN: but back to the other question, are you SURE you didn’t go anywhere else??

 

DAVE: what are you insinuating

 

JOHN: well i’m just saying you happened to leave a little while after karkat did and then i didn’t see you at all until you had to leave

 

JOHN: were you guys doing anything i should know about?? :B

 

My cheeks flushed a bit. I could remember it, the way I could feel the heat of his body even from a few inches away, the smell of smoke on his skin and the taste in his mouth.

 

DAVE: no

 

DAVE: nothing happened

 

JOHN: are you sure??

 

DAVE: pretty damn sure

 

DAVE: i mean yeah i guess we talked for a little while but that was it

 

I set my phone down for a moment. I could remember it clear as day. How beautiful and rich his eyes had looked, even through the haze of alcohol. How his jet black hair fell in fluffy waves and framed his face so well. How his plump soft lips had been parted ever so slightly as he stared up at me in the moment before we--

 

My phone buzzed on my chest.

 

JOHN: “talked” ;)

 

DAVE: i told you

 

DAVE: we didnt hook up

 

DAVE: i just *happened* to leave after he did and you just *happened* to not run into me again until the party was over

 

JOHN: maybe you're just not remembering it right

 

DAVE: youre no one to tell me what i didnt or didnt do either

 

DAVE: mr i get hungover from half a fuckin beer

 

JOHN: oh shut up

 

JOHN: but for real you guys didn't do anything?

 

DAVE: if im tellin you we didnt do shit im saying we didnt do shit

 

JOHN: really? all you did was talk?

 

DAVE: yeah whys that so hard for you to understand

 

JOHN: huh

 

JOHN: what’d you guys talk about?

 

DAVE: none of your fuckin business

 

DAVE: just some dumb boring shit i dont know

 

DAVE: we were both drunk so its not like it woulda been anything of much significance anyways

 

JOHN: oh. vriska has us all placing bets on how far you guys would get

 

I felt my neck flush.

 

DAVE: remind me to kill her next time i see her

 

JOHN: oh come on it was all in good fun :B

 

JOHN: i am out $20 though :/

 

DAVE: seriously

 

DAVE: whatever i dont care

 

DAVE: so are we gonna talk about anything else or are you just gonna keep asking me about something i didnt do

 

JOHN: i dunno i guess i just wanted see what you were up to

 

DAVE: nothin much really

 

DAVE: i feel pretty damn shitty despite what you seem to think

 

DAVE: might just chill today

 

DAVE: maybe take some pictures and shit

 

DAVE: i havent done much photography stuff in a little while i kinda miss it

 

JOHN: oh ok

 

JOHN: have fun then

 

JOHN: i have to go run errands with my dad and i’m pretty sure he’s gonna know i’m hungover >:(

 

DAVE: ha

 

DAVE: luckily i just dont have a dad at all

 

JOHN: oh shut up

 

DAVE: ttyl

 

JOHN: bye

 

I closed my phone and tossed it next to me on my bed. I put my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. I laid there for a few more minutes, and then I sat up, grabbing my camera and my sunglasses from my side table.

 

I wheeled out into the hallway and found that Dirk was still in his room. Keeping my eyes on his door, I carefully slid on my sunglasses and went the rest of the way towards the door, keeping my head down out of habit.

 

“I'm going out,” I shouted over my shoulder as I grabbed my keys from the dish on the counter and opened the front door. “I'll be back later.”

 

I winced a bit when I got into the sun, annoyed at how bright it still was. I readjusted my sunglasses and sighed, sliding the strap of my camera bag across my body so it would stay in my lap on the way to the park. I started off down the sidewalk, slipping in my earbuds as I went. There was a decent sized park within “walking” distance (haha) of our house, and I went there from time to time to take pictures or to just be by myself when I wanted to.

 

I got to the park in a few minutes. It was pretty sparsely filled, since it was still pretty early, but there were still a pretty good number of people milling around and playing with their kids or their dogs or sitting with their partners. The sun was shining bright and warm over the whole scene, making the grass look greener and the sky look bluer and the clouds look whiter. It was a pretty nice shot. I slid out my camera, raising it to my eye and adjusting the angle a bit before I slowly pressed the button. The shutter snapped. The camera whirred and spat out a black picture. I shook it a little bit, squinting at it before I slid it into my camera bag.

 

I spent the next couple hours taking pictures of whatever happened to catch my eye: an artsy looking fallen pinecone, the only clover in a patch of crabgrass, a pile of pebbles mysteriously arranged in a circle. I asked a few people if I could photograph their dogs. Almost all of them looked at my wheelchair for a split second before they said yes. When the sun got a little lower, I noticed a couple a couple hundred yards away, snuggled up close to each other. I raised my camera to see if I couldn't get their silhouette (they were facing away from the sun) but then I stopped. Even from where I sat, I could see the woman’s smile, wide and radiant and sincere. She had her face half pressed into her partner’s neck, as if she were trying to hide her face. The other person was grinning as well, and kept tickling her under her chin to get her to look up at him. Eventually she did, and he gave her a kiss.

 

I blinked. I raised my camera the rest of the way to my eye. Press. Click. Whir. I looked at the blackened picture for a moment before I started shaking it hard, trying to get it to develop. Slowly, the image appeared. Just as I'd hoped, the two were shrouded in darkness while the rest of the scene was full of light and brightness. But the angle was a bit off. It was a decent picture. But I kept staring at it, at the way the woman was leaning so comfortably into the man’s embrace.

 

_Karkat_. I felt my cheeks flush. My mind immediately went to last night, and about a million things came rushing back: how soft his skin felt, how long his eyelashes were, how his tongue felt, how quiet his voice was. I reached my hand up, gently resting my finger against my lips. That was what Karkat had been avoiding this morning. I'd known all day. And I was a little more glad about it than I'd cared to admit. It wasn't like I hadn't liked it, I just... couldn't quite trust it all. In a way. We _had_ both been pretty drunk then, and I'd already been burned more than my fair share of times by drunk me’s decisions. I didn't want to risk fucking this up too.

 

I set my camera down on my lap, gently running my finger along the rim of the lens. And besides, there was no way I could know if Karkat even remembered it all. For all I knew, he didn't even recall us kissing. If I brought it up anyways and it turned out he’d only done it because he was drunk and bored instead of because he liked me back, I'd have ruined another perfectly good relationship for no damn reason. I couldn't. Karkat was too important to me. I couldn't risk losing him. Not like this. It was better if I just waited for him to make the first move. I had to be sure he remembered too.

 

I sighed softly, running a hand through my hair. The pain killers I'd taken had worn off almost an hour ago, and I was starting to get bored here. I packed up my camera and started on my way back home. When I got inside, Dirk was sprawled across the couch, his arms crossed behind his head and his eyes closed. When I closed the front door he didn't move.

 

“So that's where you were,” he murmured.

 

“I said I was going out,” I said, sliding my sunglasses to my forehead.

 

Dirk shrugged. “Nah, ‘s fine. What's the worst that could happen to you?”

 

“I could've gotten kidnapped,” I offered, setting my camera bag on the counter and coming over to the couch. I crossed my arms and leaned them on the back of the couch.

 

Dirk shook his head. “Wouldn't have cared. So where did you run off to anyways?”

 

“The park. Just took some pictures of shit.”

 

“Can I see?” he asked, peeking open one eye.

 

“None of them are very good,” I said, putting my chin down in my arms. “I was just bored.”

 

“I don't care,” Dirk said, opening both his eyes and sitting up a little.

 

“Ok.” I wheeled back over to get my camera bag and fish out the new pictures I'd taken. I gave them to Dirk. He took them and flipped through them, carefully holding up and examining each one.

 

“They're not very good,” I mumbled again, my voice muffled.

 

“I think they're pretty nice,” Dirk said with another shrug. “I like this one.” He held up the one of the silhouetted couple. “It's got... uh... personality or whatever.”

 

“You can keep it if you want to,” I said, lifting my hand to rest my hand under my chin. “I'm not too attached to it. The framing’s kind of shitty.”

 

“Nah. I don't wanna steal your work.” He gave it and the rest of the pictures to me and returned his arms to behind his head. His shoulder cracked softly. “They're good. I like them.”

 

“Thanks. But since when do you care about my photography?” I asked as I shoved the pictures back into my bag. Except for the couple one; that I slid into in my back pocket.

 

Dirk just shrugged. “I dunno. Just curious. Y’know. Wanted to try and fuckin’... _bond_ with you or somethin’.” He rolled over. “Shit like that.”

 

I smirked a little bit. “I think being in a car crash together was bonding enough.”

 

Dirk chuckled a little bit and grunted in agreement. “You're not wrong.” He inhaled softly as he shifted and then sighed contently. “I actually like it when you go out,” he mumbled. “‘S better than watching you sit around the house all day.”

 

“Yeah. I guess.” I slung my camera bag over my shoulder and turned myself in the direction of my room. “It's hard sometimes.”

 

“‘Least you're trying,” Dirk said as I left the room.

 

When I got into my room, I hauled myself up onto my bed and set myself so that I was facing my wall of photos. I took out the couple picture and stared at it a moment before I reached up to take down one of the older pictures and pin up the new one. It looked... ok up there. Better than I first thought, anyways.

 

I closed my blinds and lay back on my bed, closing my eyes as I rubbed gently at my forehead. All of a sudden, I had headache on top of the hangover one I already had. I groaned softly. I hadn't even had all that much to drink. I'd been much, much drunker in the past and this hangover felt just as bad as then. Although it had been a little while since I had anything more than a few beers at a time.

 

I chuckled softly to myself. “Maybe you're getting _normal_ again,” I muttered under my breath.

 

Eventually, by the time I felt tired enough to go to bed, my migraine had gotten a little bit better on its own. I managed to take two more painkillers before I got into bed, and within a few minutes I fell asleep.

 

_It was hot that day. Just like it had been for the past week and a half. Everyone had been looking forward to a cool start to the fall, but the almost constant high of 90 had proven them wrong. Even the asphalt sent up shimmery wafts of pure heat._

 

_Despite the heat, people were still going out and doing things. Kids played outside, running through sprinklers, moms pushed their kids in strollers, and a few were even jogging, permanent rivers of sweat rolling down their foreheads._

 

_Dave was no exception, and neither was John. No amount of heat was going to rob them of their Saturday. They had already been in school a month and a half. They deserved it._

 

_Dave was breathing hard, the wind rushing over his skin helping to cool his feverish body. His baggy, size-and-a-half-too-big shirt was billowing after him like a miniature cape, and his sunglasses were protecting his eyes from both the wind and the sun. He felt damn near invincible._

 

_He pushed off the ground with his foot, making himself go faster as he coasted down the street on his skateboard. John wasn't very far behind, pedaling furiously on his bike just to keep up with Dave. He kept having to push his glassed back up the sweaty bridge of his nose and he was breathing much harder than Dave._

 

_“Dave,” John whined, “slow down! You know I can't go as fast as you.”_

 

_Dave just glanced back at John, smirking a tiny bit before pushing off the ground and gaining a good two or three more feet on him. When he let out a whine of protest, Dave laughed._

 

_“I'm just kidding,” Dave said, standing up straight so that he'd start slowing down. “Slowpoke.”_

 

_“Shut up!”_

 

_Dave smirked again and then slowed to a stop as he saw the road just a few dozen yards ahead. It rose steeply, up and over the giant hill where all the big houses were. He squinted up at it behind his shades as John rode up beside him. Dave shook his head and sighed softly before he bent down to pick up his skateboard and tuck it under his arm._

 

_The two walked up the hill in silence. Suddenly still, Dave was all the more aware of just how sticky it was, and he kept reaching up to tug at the neck of his shirt. John wasn't much better off himself. He kept having to brush sweat from his temples and it kept making his glasses almost slip off._

 

_Eventually, thighs burning, they reached the top of the hill. John giggled as he surveyed the view for himself. It_ was _pretty nice. You could see all the houses for at least three blocks and you could even make out the roofs of some of the really distant ones._

 

_“This is gonna be so cool,” John murmured, getting back onto his bike and grabbing the handle bars. But before he could push off, he turned and noticed Dave still standing with his skateboard in hand. “Are you coming?”_

 

_Dave didnt answer. He was intimately acquainted with this hill; he'd had his fair share of wipe outs--ranging from skinned knees and elbows to a sprained finger once--on the way down just die to the sheer amount of speed you could build up after just a few seconds. He wasn't afraid of the hill necessarily, he was just... cautious._

 

_“Um,” Dave said. “Y... Yeah.”_

 

_“Or are you too much of a scaredy cat?” John teased._

 

_“Shut the hell up. I never said I was scared,” Dave snapped. “I was just... getting myself ready.” He put his board on the ground and stepped one foot on it. “I-I’ll go first.”_

 

_Dave looked down the hill one last time. A gentle gust of wind blew past, rustling his hair. He gritted his teeth, and then got on his skateboard and pushed off._

 

_Almost immediately, he was going way too fast. He bent his knees, trying to keep his balance and control of the board, but about halfway down he felt like he was on the verge of falling. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that the fall wouldn't hurt too bad. Much to his surprise, though, he ended staying on his board as the street leveled out. He had to teeter back and forth to keep his balance, but he was safe._

 

_He turned around to stick his tongue out at John. When he faced back around, he saw something small and furry dart right into his path. He swore quietly and swerved to the right to avoid it. He bumped up onto the curb and the wheel of his skateboard got caught in a crack. He was thrown off into the grass where he rolled head over heels twice before he landed face down._

 

_He laid there for a moment, stunned. Slowly, he curled his hands into fists and sat up. His sunglasses were skewed on his face and it felt like he'd gotten about a million new bruises. He heard John's bike rattle up behind him and then running footsteps._

 

_“Dave! Are you ok? That looked pretty bad. Are you hurt?” John gasped as he approached. “Dave?”_

 

_“I-- Uh...” Dave sat back on his heels, pressing his palm against his forehead. “I-I'm fine. I think. I just... need a minute.”_

 

_“Oh.” John stood up straighter and then sat down next to Dave in the grass. He was quiet for a moment before he quietly mumbled, “You looked cool on the way down, though.”_

 

_“Did I?”_

 

_John smiled. “Yeah. Your shirt was like billowing out around you and it kinda looked like you were flying or something.”_

 

_“Huh.” Dave took his glasses off, letting his hand rest on his thigh. After a few seconds, he snickered a little bit. He laughed again, a small grin growing on his face. He covered his mouth with his hand as he started laughing harder._

 

_“Wh-what's wrong?”_

 

_“Quit lying to me, dude. I looked fuckin’ stupid when I fell,” Dave said between giggles._

 

_John blushed, and chuckled a tiny bit. “You didn't--”_

 

_“Yeah I did. I looked like an idiot. I know it.” Dave laughed out loud again, reaching up to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Ah. Damn.”_

 

_John giggled again, pressing his fingers against his lips. “You did look kinda funny when your legs flew up.”_

 

_“I know.” Dave flopped backwards on the grass, sighing loudly. “Cool,” he muttered under his breath. John laid down beside him, their heads next to each other’s._

 

_“You wanna keep going?” John asked._

 

_“Gimme a minute.”_

 

_The two of them sat in silence for a couple minutes, just listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. They were underneath a tree, so it was thankfully much cooler. The grass made the back of Dave’s neck itchy. He didn't mind. He looked over at John, who was staring up at the sky. His face was speckled with spots of sun, and his cheeks looked rosy and round. Dave felt his face tingle._

 

_“Ok,” Dave said, sitting up. “We can go now.”_

 

_“You're ready?” John said, getting up._

 

_“Yeah.” Dave held out his hand so that John could help him up, but before he could stand his phone started buzzing in his back pocket. Dave sighed sharply, pulling it out and unlocking it. He read the text he'd gotten and swore under his breath._

 

_“What is it?” John asked._

 

_“It's Dirk,” Dave said flatly, putting his phone back in his pocket and walking over to pick up his skateboard. “He says I have to come back home. We're going somewhere.”_

 

_“Oh,” John said sadly._

 

_“Yeah. I don't know. It sucks.” Dave sighed, putting his sunglasses back on. “I can hang out tomorrow, though.”_

 

_“Yeah. I gotta go shopping with my Dad in the evening, but I can hang out in the morning.”_

 

_“Alright.” Dave held up his hand in a wave. “Seeya later.”_

 

_“Bye.”_

 

I opened my eyes with a start. I sat up in bed, staring ahead at the wall in the dark. I pressed my hand against my thigh, closing my eyes and taking a slow, shaky breath.

 

“Fuck,” I whispered, tightening my grip on my leg. Not that dream again. I hated that dream and ones just like that. They weren't all that traumatic, not by any means, but God, did they still cut me to the fucking core. I pressed my other hand against my eye, a sour taste suddenly in my mouth. I sat there for a few moments, trying to bring myself fully back into reality. There were no beams of moonlight splashed across my room tonight. I could hear the steady pitter patter of heavy rain on my window and as I sat there was a bright flash of lightening and a deafening thunderclap. I tried to focus on that.

 

After a couple of minutes, I groaned softly, reaching over to drag my wheelchair towards my bed. I wheeled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes as I shook out a couple more painkillers and swallowed them dry. I washed it down with a glass of tap water, and then I leaned my arms on the counter. I ran a hand through my hair, resting my forehead on the counter as I gently swirled the water left in my cup. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the clock on the stove said 2:09. Another thunderclap, strong enough to shake the very house around me. I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't turn around.

 

“Hey,” Dirk said softly. “What're you doing up? I thought you went to bed a couple hours ago.”

 

“I did,” I said quietly. “I just--” I stopped, looking at my glass. “I... had a bad dream. That's all. I just needed some water to calm me down.”

 

“Oh.” Dirk didn't say anything at first. I could hear the concern in his silence.

 

“It was fine,” I mumbled. “It wasn't even that bad. It wasn't anything violent or whatever. It was just th-- The day before.”

 

“Oh,” Dirk said again.

 

“I'm ok now, though. It was just more... confusing, I guess. I wasn't--” I shook my head. “I, ah-- I-I'm fine.” I took another sip of water, feeling the phantom sensation of the painkillers going down my throat. My head was still throbbing.

 

“Oh. That's a relief.”

 

“Mm hmm.” I gently set my cup down on the counter. I ran a hand through my hair, twirling one of my fingers around a lock of hair. I closed my eyes and sighed. “...I just...”

 

“It was just a dream,” Dirk said gently.

 

“I know, but I...” I rested my hand on my thigh again. “I could feel it. All of it. And I don't...” I trailed off, sighing again. “It's... dumb, I know.”

 

“It's ok.”

 

I nodded again silently. I heard Dirk move.

 

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he said. “We have another appointment with Dr. Scratch next week.”

 

I closed my eyes, rubbing at my temples. “Great,” I whispered to myself. “Just fucking...”

 

“Everything's gonna be fine, Dave. You don't have to stress about it. It's just another checkup, ok?”

 

“That's what you said last time,” I mumbled before putting my glass in the sink and wheeling myself back to my room. I got back into bed, laying on my back and staring up at my ceiling. I pressed my palms against my eyes. My chest felt tight and my breathing was more labored than it had been a few minutes ago.

 

“No. Stop it. Stop crying. Stop--” I squeezed my eyes shut tighter as I sniffled softly. I wasn't gonna start goddamn sobbing over something like this. I had to stop it with all these little breakdowns over nothing. I was past that shit. I was stronger now. I was _better_ now... At least, I was supposed to be.

 

I dug my fingernails into my scalp and tugged on my hair a bit, letting the pain distract me. I sighed loudly, letting my hands drop to my sides. I got back under the covers and rolled over, facing the wall.

 

God, I wished I had a drink.

 

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> so here chapter 13. i kinda surprised myself with how long it ended up taking ((almost all of june rip)) and how long it ended up being ((6500 isnt very far from 9500 tbh)) but i mean i think its one of my better chapters so i dont really mind
> 
> i seem to have run into something of a road block plot-wise--not that you guys have to worry--((if u have multiple climaxes make sure u plan out what happens afterwards haha,,)) but, and i say this every chapter but its true every chapter, if the next few take a little longer thats why and i promise im trying my very best
> 
> but anyways. i hope you enjoyed this chapter and i hope you enjoy all the chapters yet to come ((however many more there may be this is a long ass fanfic))
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter.


	15. Chapter 14

_We kissed._

 

It kept repeating itself over and over again in Karkat's head, like a track stuck on repeat. _We kissed. We kissed. We kissed._

 

Karkat brought his cigarette to his lips, staring down at his feet. _We kissed_ , he thought as he exhaled a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. It billowed up and disappeared into the grey morning sky. It was Monday. He'd had a hangover all of Saturday and half of Sunday. When he didn't get up until 2 on Saturday, he told Kankri he had a cold (which Cronus had only chuckled at) and for the rest of the weekend, he had Karkat downing cough drops and vitamin C supplements every hour. It was annoying, but at least Kankri didn't suspect anything.

 

Karkat slipped a cough drop out of his pocket and unwrapped it. _We kissed._ He popped it into his mouth and then snuffed out his cigarette, digging out another little pit and burying the butt. _We kissed._ It was almost time to go.

 

Karkat went back inside. He saw Cronus in the living room, holding up his new lighter as he lit a cigarette of his own. When he heard the back door shut, he jumped and turned around.

 

“Oh,” he said in relief, exhaling smoke as he spoke. “It's just you. Listen; don't tell your brother, ok? Eridan’s been having a rough time and it’s stressing me out, y'know?”

 

Karkat didn't say anything. He crossed his arms.

 

“I'll let you have one of my beers if you don't tell,” Cronus offered.

 

Karkat looked at him for another moment, and then murmured, “Ok.”

 

Cronus smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, doll,” he said as he went to go take another drag.

 

Karkat walked back to his room and leaned back against the door. He closed his eyes.

 

_Karkat walked out of his room, having been woken up by rustling in the foyer. When he turned the corner into the living room, he saw Kankri at the front door, fumbling with it and his keys and the corner of his sweater that kept sliding down no matter how often he tugged it back up._

 

_“Kankri?” he asked softly._

 

_Kankri startled, dropping his keys and then flinching at the loud noise. He whipped around to face Karkat. His hair and clothes were ever so noticeably disheveled and his cheeks were flushed pink. They got redder when he recognize who it was._

 

_“Oh! Wh-what are you doing up? I thought you went to bed earlier,” Kankri said._

 

_“Where did you go?” Karkat asked softly._

 

_“I-I was just--”_

 

_“Were you with him again?”_

 

_Kankri opened his mouth to reply but then slowly shut it. He looked down and sighed. “Please don't tell Dad,” he said quietly. “He'd kill me.”_

 

_Karkat looked down. “I won't. He's not home anyways.”_

 

_“He's not?” Kankri asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise and then furrowing in concern. “It's almost 1 am, I thought...”_

 

_Karkat turned back around. “I'm going back to bed.”_

 

He sighed. He slid out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it onto his bed as he walked over to his dresser. It had been chilly that morning. He picked out one of his hoodies, putting it on over his bare chest. He smoothed out the fabric, brushing off a few stray pieces of lint.

 

_We kissed._

 

Karkat picked up his backpack by the front door, waiting impatiently for Kankri to get his ass in gear.

 

“I'm gonna be late,” he mumbled as Kankri rushed around the living room trying to collect his things. He'd woken up a little later than usual and spent a good ten minutes chewing out Cronus.

 

“Just a moment,” Kankri muttered, picking up his jacket from the hook and his keys from the dish by the door. They went outside, where it had started to drizzle a bit. Karkat pulled up his hood as Kankri locked the front door.

 

_We kissed._

 

Karkat leaned his arm against the window on the drive to school, watching the rivulets of rainwater run down the window. He could still feel a slight fog in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. It _was_ Monday, after all.

 

_We kissed._

 

“How's your cold?” Kankri asked, glancing over at Karkat.

 

“It's fine.”

 

“Is your head alright? Do you still need medicine? I can drop some off later if you'd like.”

 

“No, I'm--” They pulled up to the school. _We kissed._ “I'm fine. I've still got some cough drops. You don't have to come by.”

 

“Oh. Alright. I'm glad you're feeling better, then,” Kankri said as Karkat climbed out of the car.

 

“Bye,” Karkat mumbled, pulling his hood up again and tugging on the strings a bit. As he walked up to the school, the mantra started back up again, almost in time with his footsteps. _We kissed. We kissed. We kissed. We kissed._ Karkat sighed, hooking his thumbs on the straps of his backpack. He entered the school and trudged to his locker, pushing back his damp hood and shaking out his hair a bit. _We kissed._ He shoved his books inside and then slammed it shut, twisting the lock to a random number as he walked away. _We kissed._ He was quite paying attention to where he was going, he'd let himself go on autopilot. His head was still kind of foggy even after two days. _We kissed. We kissed. We kissed. We--_

 

Karkat stopped. He looked up at where his feet had taken him, and his face suddenly flared bright tomato red. Dave was sitting in their usual spot, his elbow on his knee and his chin resting on his fist. He was looking away from Karkat at the moment, his face bored and calm. Karkat felt something in his chest lurch sharply, almost painfully. It all came rushing back: the way Dave’s eyes had looked that night, what they suddenly had, what they were suddenly missing; the timid feeling of his cold fingertips ghosting over his cheek, the way he gently curled them under his chin once they started kissing harder; the desperate hunger and desire that had practically bled from their every pore. It all came back like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking Karkat off his feet in the process.

 

He shook his head a little bit, trying to recompose himself. As he did, Dave moved his head in Karkat's direction and his gaze landed on him. When he seemed to realize who it was, Dave’s cheeks flushed bright pink as well and Karkat saw something flicker across his eyes for a split second.

 

“Oh. Um... H-hey,” Dave said softly, sitting up a little straighter and looking down at the ground as Karkat approached. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging gently at a lock of hair near his ear.

 

“Hey,” Karkat mumbled back. Silence hung in the air for a few seconds. Neither of the two could make eye contact with the other for more than a few moments before one of them blushed even harder and looked down.

 

“I, um,” Dave said after a little while, “see you weren't really dying?”

 

“What? Oh. No, no, yeah, I-I'm fine now. I was just... I-I'm not used to being hungover, I guess.” He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. “I've never had enough to drink to get _that_ sick.”

 

Dave chuckled a little bit. “Yeah, that part’s not that much fun. But the part before was pretty decent, yeah?”

 

“Mmm,” Karkat said. He looked down, his hand reaching up to smooth back the hair near his ear. “Yeah. It was nice. I had fun. More than I've had in a while, or at least since I got here.”

 

“Hopefully that, uh, means you'd be open to going to more parties in the future?” Dave offered. “I'm probably going to them regardless, but it'd be... nice if you came to a few too.”

 

Karkat felt his cheeks simmer. “Yeah. Yeah, I'll try to.”

 

Dave smiled, looking up at Karkat. “Good.”

 

Before Karkat could reply, the bell rang. The two of them picked up their respective things and walked together to class. Silence hung between them, broken only by the din of the crowds around them. When they got to class, they sat in their usual seats. Karkat again found his mind wandering as class started. He gently tapped his pen against the spiral of his notebook, leaning his chin in his palm. He knew Dave was a few seats behind him, but he forced himself not to turn around to look at him.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, just imagining Dave. The messy blond spirals that always dipped just a bit in front of his eyes. The hundreds of freckles dusted across his nose and his cheeks, as well as the few stray ones on his forehead and his chin and even on his lips. His eyes, attentive and sharp and sarcastic and kind all at once, and beautiful with their piercing scarlet irises. That smile of his, be it sarcastic and condescending or kind and sincere.

 

Karkat felt his cheeks warm up again. He sat up straighter, and for a split second allowed himself to steal a short glance over his shoulder. Dave looked just as bored as he was, looking down at his paper with deeply furrowed eyebrows. He glanced up at the board to write something down, and as he did his eyes landed on Karkat. His face brightened a bit when he did and he nodded towards the front of class, mimicking shooting himself. Karkat grinned a bit, nodding in agreement before he turned back around. When the bell rang, Karkat packed up his things and waited at the door for Dave to get his stuff.

 

“Hey,” he said when Dave came up.

 

“‘S up?”

 

“It was, um, funny what you did,” Karkat said as they started towards his second period class. “During class. Y'know.”

 

Dave smiled a little bit. “Yeah. History ain't exactly a barrel of laughs.”

 

Karkat nodded in agreement, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He struggled to think of something to talk about, his heart beating nervously in his chest. He kept glancing over at Dave, silently hoping he wasn't growing bored with him. As they reached Karkat's classroom, he finally spoke up.

 

“Hey,” Karkat said softly.

 

Dave stopped, turning to face him. “Yeah?”

 

Karkat opened his mouth to speak, but he faltered. He didn't know how to phrase it. He blinked a few times and swallowed hard. “D-do--”

 

Before he could finish, the bell rang loudly above them. Dave looked around and swore under his breath. “Tell me at lunch?” he asked.

 

Karkat nodded. Dave gave a single nod and turned to rush to his own class. Karkat watched him go, gripping his notebook in front of his chest. He turned around and walked into his classroom, taking a seat at the back. He spent the entire period worrying about Dave, completely neglecting his notes. He wanted to talk about the party. About the kiss. He wanted to know how Dave felt about it--about _him_ , but he couldn't. Something was stopping him. It was how he'd been acting and talking that night. He had mentioned then “sober me” as if there were a significant distinction between the two versions. And that made him wonder: did he remember that night? Did he remember making the decision, and saying what he'd said to him and kissing him? Was it real? Or just a drunk impulse that he decided to act on simply because Karkat was there at the right time and the right place? Did he actually even care about him at all?

 

Karkat knew he was probably being irrational, but he was too anxious about it to care. He was terrified of the idea of him telling Dave how much he had liked it, only for Dave to shut him down by saying it had just been a one night fling. He feared it could ruin any chance of a romantic relationship with him, as well as the friendship they already had. It was better, he decided, to just not bring it up. Better to leave himself in suspense than risk fucking everything up. If it _had_ been genuine, Dave would surely want to talk about it too, right?

 

_But would it really be so bad if I…?_ Karkat began to think, chewing absently on his pen. He _was_ thinking of worst case scenarios, after all. Realistically, he'd probably just end up making things a little more awkward between them. Their friendship could recover. Others had in the past. He could tell him and hope for the best. Maybe stop being so pessimistic for once in his life.

 

_No,_ Karkat told himself. This thing, whatever he had with Dave, it was too precious to him to risk straining it like that. Either option had its risks, but keeping it all to himself was the safest one by far. So what if he had to keep his feelings to himself? He was used to it.

 

The bell rang. Karkat packed up his things and left the room. He trudged to his next class, where he again paid no attention to the teacher and instead ponder exactly how bad it would be if he brought up the kiss to Dave. He was so spaced out that when it was over he got up and started towards the cafeteria, he hardly noticed when someone sidled up next to him and he startled when they nudged him.

 

“Hey, dude,” Dave said with a soft chuckle once Karkat whipped around and saw him. “You all here? You looked about a million miles away.”

 

“Oh,” Karkat said softly, his heart slowing down once he realized it was Dave and then immediately beating faster again once he realized it was _Dave_. “I was just, um, thinking. Sorry, I get spacey like that sometimes,” he mumbled, looking down and letting out a soft nervous sigh.

 

“What were you thinkin’ about exactly that it made you so spacey?”

 

“Um.” Karkat's cheeks simmered warmly. “Just... stuff. Y'know, whatever. Nothing-- Nothing important, though.” Mentally, Karkat kicked himself for deflecting the issue yet again.

 

Dave nodded as they entered the cafeteria. “Cool.”

 

When they approached the table, everyone was there looking like they usually did, except they all seemed to have a slight dinginess to them, even though it had been two whole days. Vriska looked relatively ok, although Karkat noted that she wasn't wearing any makeup and her hair looked messier than normal.

 

“So,” she said as they sat down, “now that we're all here: what'd you all think?” She sat up a little more and grinned. “One of my best parties of the year, I'd say. Seeing as I've only had one. But it was good, wasn't it?”

 

Everyone nodded and murmured sounds of agreement. Karkat didn't say anything. Vriska smiled, basking in her approval, and then her eyes landed on Karkat. Her smile changed a bit, becoming something more sly and mischievous.

 

“Although, I shouldn't be asking you guys. How about we ask the guest of honor? Karkat.” She leaned forward, rapping her nails against the table. “What did you think of your welcome party?”

 

“It wasn't a welcome party,” Karkat said flatly.

 

“Sure it was,” Vriska said with a shrug. “I threw it with you in mind, y'know. And anyways you at least got invited to it. Around here, an invitation from me personally is like golden ticket.”

 

“Is that why half the people there were total strangers?”

 

“At the very least, I wanna know what you thought as an outsider and all. These assholes have been holing up in my house since middle school.” She nodded her head in the direction of the rest of the table.

 

“Fine. It was good, I guess.”

 

“You guess.”

 

“It was fine, Vriska. I had a good time. I don't know what you want me to say.”

 

She smiled a little bit and then sat back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Good.” She cut her eyes over to Dave. “Bet Strider here had a ball too, yeah?”

 

“What?” Dave and Karkat asked almost in unison.

 

“C'mon, don't act like we didn't see you leave truth or dare an hour early,” she said to Karkat. She turned to Dave. “And don't act like I didn't notice when _you_ slithered off to god knows where after we were done.”

 

“That doesn't mean we--” Karkat started.

 

“You're not gonna hump each other all over my nice sheets in my nice house and then lie about it to my face,” Vriska deadpanned.

 

Karkat felt his neck start to tingle. Before he could open his mouth to say something, Dave spoke up.

 

“We didn't do anything,” he said.

 

“Really?” Vriska said.

 

“I swear. Didn't fuck, didn't fool around, didn't do nothing,” Dave replied calmly. Karkat cut his eyes over to Dave for a split second, distantly hoping Vriska hadn’t noticed but mostly occupied with being confused.

 

“I don't know if I believe you,” Vriska said, leaning back and tipping her head to the side.

 

“C'mon, babe, do I look like a liar to you?” Dave asked sweetly.

 

Vriska narrowed her eyes at him, a playful glint still behind them. “Hmm. So you two didn't do _anything_?”

 

“Nothin’ more than talking. We were good little boys. Y'know. Abstain to obtain and all that,” Dave said, resting his chin on his fist. As he did, Karkat thought he saw his ruby eyes meet his for half a moment.

 

Vriska laughed out loud. “Yeah. Such a shame you two didn't fool around at all. Means the rest of us will still have to bear witness to your disgusting unrequited pining bullshit.” She grinned. “Guess it means I'll just have to keep throwing parties until the two of you finally do fuck.”

 

Dave shrugged, picking up his drink and taking a sip. “Fine by me. You know I'd never turn down the opportunity for free booze.”

 

Karkat stayed quiet, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He was frozen, unable to touch his food or speak or even look at anyone. Dave had said... _No_ , he told himself, _he was just doing it to get Vriska off his back. He remembers. He has to have. It's only been three days._ But even still... He'd sounded so sure of himself and calm when he'd lied. It was hard to remind himself he wasn't telling the truth. Karkat knew he was probably overreacting. If anything, it had just jarred him a little bit. Everything would be fine. But still...

 

Eventually, the bell rang and everyone dispersed towards their respective classes. Dave, to Karkat's surprise, stuck with him and went with him to his next class as usual. Karkat had half expected him to just take off on his own. He looked over at Dave, his cheeks warming up. Dave glanced back at him and they held gazes for a few moments until they both blushed and looked down.

 

“What was it you were, um,” Dave said, his voice coming out rushed and hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Gonna tell me earlier?”

 

“Huh? Oh. Um,” Karkat brought his hand to his mouth, biting his thumbnail, “i-it's nothing. It was nothing. Don't worry about it.”

 

Dave was quiet for a moment. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just... still tired, I guess,” Karkat mumbled as they approached his classroom door.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah.” Karkat turned, one hand on the doorknob while he brushed a lock of hair behind his ear with the other. “I'll see you later.”

 

During class, as the teacher droned on about the day's lesson, Karkat got bored quickly, his attention drifting elsewhere. He tapped his foot against the floor and slowly clicked and unclicked his pen. He stopped after a few minutes, staring at his hand: at the ink splotches on his palm and the way his thumb bent over the end of the pen. He put down his pen and stretched out his fingers, examining the familiar folds and wrinkles and lines. The single tiny round scar near his thumb.

 

He closed his eyes, his mind drifting to holding hands. He hadn't held hands with anyone in forever, not since last year at the very least. The last person he remembered holding his hand was Terezi, he thought. Just before he got in the car to come here. He remembered that her palms had been cold even in the heat of summer. It reminded him of the party. Dave’s fingertips had been icy cold from the bottle he'd been drinking from.

 

_Dave._ Karkat sighed softly, curling his hand closed. Everything that had happened at lunch came back to him. He knew how unlikely it was that Dave didn't remember the night at all, but at the same time he couldn't figure out how likely it was that he did either. And Karkat was in no way going to risk their entire relationship on the off chance that he assumed the wrong thing. They were fine where they were, he supposed. If anything it probably _was_ just a drunken mistake on both their parts. It probably didn't mean anything at all. It couldn't have. Otherwise, Dave wouldn't have been so insistent on it being otherwise at lunch.

 

When the bell rang, Karkat got up slowly, his mind still mulling over it all. He muscled through the last classes of the day, and just as he'd been hoping, he saw Dave waiting at the car pick-up, his chin in one hand and his phone in the other. He didn't notice when Karkat walked up beside him until he spoke.

 

“Hey,” Karkat half-mumbled, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind his ear.

 

Dave looked over at him, and smiled a tiny bit. “Hey.”

 

“I was--” Karkat closed his eyes for a moment. He shook his head a bit. “I mean, a-at lunch. When Vriska was...” He shifted uncomfortably. “You were, um... really insistent. I guess. About the whole... thing. I-I don't know.”

 

“Oh.” Dave clicked his phone off and slid it into his pocket. “Yeah. That. I don't know I just... don't really like rumors and all, y’know? I've had to deal with my fair share and it's better if you can squash ‘em soon as possible. Nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand.”

 

“Oh,” Karkat said softly.

 

“Plus if you don't do tell Vriska otherwise over and over, she'll just run with it,” Dave said. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to check it. “‘S real shitty of her,” he murmured distractedly, reading the message.

 

“Oh. Ok. That's... that makes sense. Ok.” Karkat held onto the strap of his backpack, picking at a loose thread.

 

“Yeah.” Dave rested the top of his phone against his lips. He looked over at Karkat again and shrugged. “Still don't really know why I'm friends with her.”

 

Karkat let out a soft chuckle. Dave smiled as well and then moved to slip his phone back into his pocket. He bent down to unlock his wheels and then gave Karkat a single wave. “So, um... bye.”

 

“Bye.” Karkat watched him leave and get into his brother's car. He tightened his grip on his backpack strap. He closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment and muttered, “Shit.” A few moments later, he noticed Kankri's car and went out to meet him. He ignored him in the car and when they got home, went to his bench in the woods to smoke. He managed to burn through two and a half before he slowed down.

 

He brought his hand down from his mouth, holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could before he exhaled. He closed his eyes, letting the nicotine buzz relax him. After a few seconds of thinking, he pulled out his phone and dialed a phone number. He held the phone to his ear, flicking ash off of his cigarette as he waited.

 

“Hello?”

 

“We kissed,” Karkat blurted out. He squeezed his eyes shut and swore in his mind.

 

“Uh...” Terezi said, confusion in her voice. “Who kissed?”

 

Karkat brought his hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

 

“Am I... missing something?” Terezi asked. “Who kissed?”

 

“No, I-- I went to this party, on Friday, and it was just-- I-I don't know stuff was happening and I felt... weird, I guess, and--”

 

“Wait... You don't mean...” Terezi said slowly.

 

Karkat folded his other hand under his armpit and nodded, flicking the ash off the end of his stump of a cigarette. “Yeah. We-- Well, _I_ , um... kissed him. I kissed Dave.”

 

There was a split second of silence before Karkat heard Terezi gasp audibly. She started half-giggling, half-cackling and Karkat couldn't help but crack a tiny smile.

 

“Wow,” she said, awe in her voice. “ _Wow._ Well, that sure was a helluva lot quicker than I thought it'd be. Good for you!”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So what happened? _I_ thought you were way too shy to make the first move.”

 

“Shut up. I never said I wasn't,” Karkat mumbled. “We just... We were drunk, and--”

 

“You? Drunk? Shit, man, that's something I would've paid good money to see,” Terezi said with a chuckle.

 

“As I was _saying_ , we were both really drunk and we were just kind of sitting there and... I don't know. We just kinda kissed. I don't know who made the first move, though. It was really hard to tell,” Karkat said, dropping the butt of his cigarette and pulling out another one.

 

“Hmm. What about the kiss itself? How was that?”

 

Karkat felt his cheeks flush as he exhaled a lungful of smoke. “Oh. It was... nice.”

 

“No duh. I mean what was it _like_ , y'know? Was it just some dumb first grade playground kiss or was there _other stuff_?”

 

“I'm not telling you that,” Karkat said.

 

“Was there at least any tongue? I don't know if it counts much if there wasn't any tongue.”

 

“Fine. There was... a little bit. _Just_ a little.” Terezi started cheering and laughing again. “Shut up. It wasn't even that long. A couple minutes, maybe.”

 

“A couple minutes is enough time for you guys to have fucked,” Terezi said between giggles.

 

“We didn't do anything besides kiss, Tez, I told you that.”

 

“I know, I know. I'm just messin’ with ya. When's the wedding, though?” Terezi laughed when Karkat swore at her. “ _Kidding_. Jesus. But for real, are you guys like... a thing now or what?”

 

Karkat opened his mouth to speak and then sighed. He sat down on the concrete bench. “I don't know. I haven't talked to him about it.”

 

“You haven't? Well, you should, you know that, right? Knowing you, you're probably downplaying everything and you two probably _did_ dry hump, but even still shit like this can really fuck things up.”

 

“I know. I just... What if he doesn't remember it at all?” Karkat asked quietly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, we were both drunk but he had been drinking a lot more than me earlier, so what if he doesn't remember that night at all? And then I bring it up and it turns out that he only did it in the first place just because he was super drunk?”

 

“You don't know that's what's gonna happen,” Terezi said gently.

 

“Sure,” Karkat muttered, taking a drag on his cigarette. He exhaled through his nose and rested his elbows on his knees, putting his forehead in his hand. “I bet he doesn't even like me. I bet it was just some dumb wasted fuck up that he's gonna regret forever.”

 

“That's not true.”

 

“It might as well be. It's been two days and we haven't even--” Karkat closed his eyes. “I feel awkward around him. Like, every time I look at him I remember that night, and then I remember that _he_ probably doesn't remember, and then it makes me all sad and shitty and it's just... fucking bullshit.”

 

“Well if it helps, _I_ still think he's head over heels for you. Figuratively. It's gonna work out, I promise, but you can't just not talk about it. That'll just make everything more tense and shitty.”

 

Karkat nodded, flicking ash from his cigarette and turning over his left hand to look at the scar by his thumb. “Yeah.”

 

“See if he brings it up in the next week. If he doesn't, then you have to talk to him about it,” Terezi said firmly.

 

Karkat sighed, turning his cigarette butt to look at the glowing orange end. “Fine.”

 

“Good.”

 

Karkat didn't say anything. He sandwiched his phone between his shoulder and his ear and switched his cigarette to his other hand. He hovered the simmering end over a piece of skin beneath the two other scars and after a moment of thinking firmly pressed the red hot end against his hand. He hissed louder than he'd been hoping at the stinging pain. It hurt worse than he remembered. He bit his cheek to stay quiet and ground it in until the cigarette butt was put out.

 

“What was that? Are you ok?” Terezi asked. “I thought I heard something.”

 

“Yeah. I'm fine. I just stepped in something weird.” He dropped his extinguished cigarette butt and ground it into the dirt with the heel of his shoe. “Listen, I have to go. Talk to you later?”

 

“Only if you promise to talk to Dave first.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes, a tiny half smile gracing his lips for a split second as he examined his new burn. “ _Fine_. I'll talk to him next week, how's that?”

 

“It's acceptable, but I already know that's the best I'm gonna get out of you, so ok.”

 

“See you.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Karkat locked his phone and put it on the bench beside him. He stared at his hand, at the raw red circle he'd put there. He wasn't even entirely sure why he'd done it. But he didn't regret it. He'd already done plenty of things without knowing exactly why. It was gonna be fine. It wasn't like anyone would notice anyways.

 

Karkat slid his phone back into his pocket along with his cigarettes and his lighter and trudged back home. Kankri was at the kitchen table milling over a bunch of papers and Cronus was sprawled across the couch watching T.V. Karkat made eye contact with him as he walked past. He threw his stuff down in his room and went and locked himself in the bathroom. He had to rummage through the cabinets for a bit until he found the first aid kit. He unwrapped a bandage and smoothed it over his wound. He didn't bother disinfecting it.

 

He crumpled up the bandage wrapper and put the kit back under the sink. As he did, he noticed a dusty bottle of bleach tucked behind the bend of the sink’s pipes. He paused for a moment, staring at it. After a few seconds he curled his hand into a loose fist and closed the cabinet.

 

Not today.

 

Karkat went back into his room. He pulled out his phone, bored. He scrolled through his recent text messages, looking for someone to talk to, when he landed on the last one he'd sent to Dave. He paused. He thought back to what Terezi said, how not talking would make everything worse. He started typing.

 

KARKAT: HEY I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THE

 

Karkat hesitated.

 

KARKAT: HEY I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THE KISS

 

He started to press ‘send,’ but he stopped for a moment. He closed his eyes for a moment. He took a soft breath. He highlighted the message and pressed the backspace button.

 

Not today.

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh holy shit hey guys
> 
> so this... cluster fuck is finally posted 2 days shy of a month after chapter 13. im sorry everything took so long my summer was a lot busier than i thought itd be and then i got super super distracted and super super unmotivated at the same time and it was,, shitty but!! im back now
> 
> something else i noticed tho is we are getting close to the one year anniversary of when i started this fic ((october 2015)) which is cool!! but also kind of “??” since im 14 chapters in and its taken a year and were just barely past the first climax
> 
> i guess what im trying to say is, ive still got a lot more coming so ,, look out youre gonna be in it for the long haul
> 
> i start school in about two weeks ((august 3rd kms)) so that might?? have some effect on updates but hopefully having my day structured again will help me get back into the swing of things
> 
> ((also if u start 2 rlly miss me go check out some of my other fanfics))
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter


	16. Chapter 15

“I'm calling bullshit. There's no way you'd do that.”

 

“Really? You must not know me very well, then,” I murmured, my eyes closed. I leaned against the window and smirked a bit. “I'd be fuckin’ all over that shit.”

 

“I hope you know how badly meth fucks up your body.” Dirk glanced over at me as we pulled up to a red light. “As your legal guardian, I need you to tell me you do.”

 

“Don't worry, I do. I've seen all the egg frying PSAs. But I mean, one half of me already doesn't work, what's taking out the rest? Expedite the process a little, y'know?”

 

“Of all the ways to do that, meth has gotta be the worst,” Dirk murmured. “It's not quick; it's gonna take years. Hope you know that.”

 

I shrugged. “I've got nothin’ but time. It's not like I'm going anywhere.”

 

“How are you gonna take it, then? Quickest way is injections and you don't exactly love needles.”

 

“First of all, you don't _take_ meth, it's not a fuckin’ Tylenol. Second, 6 years of hospitals, I think I've gotten used to being stabbed with needles by now.”

 

“You've never done it to yourself, though,” Dirk countered. “It's only ever been nurses.”

 

“You're right, I guess. I guess I'll just hope the craving for the high will overpower my unwillingness once push comes to shove.”

 

“And if it doesn't?”

 

“I could always smoke it,” I offered. “Everyone's always going on about which rapper’s started smoking meth this week.”

 

“You don't smoke,” Dirk said simply. “And I know for a fact that shit’s too valuable for you to want to risk wasting any by coughing half of it out of your lungs after just one hit.”

 

My mind went back to the party, when Karkat had handed me his cigarette. The bitter taste it left on my tongue and the burning dusty raspy feeling it coated my throat with. The way he had laughed when I started choking on the smoke, his nose and eyes crinkled up adorably, his perfect lips curled into a smile.

 

“You're right,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. “I don't smoke. And besides, I'm certain all my fellow meth heads would never trust me and my virgin lungs enough to let me get within ten feet of a pipe.”

 

“It looks like you're fresh outta options, then. It's settled.” Dirk turned off the car and undid his seatbelt, glancing over at me. “You're not doing meth.”

 

I scoffed softly. “Like that's gonna stop me.” I twisted around to watch him pull my wheelchair from the back seat and unfold it. When he came around to help me down, I said, “I could just eat it. Sprinkle some on my cereal, pour some in my coffee.”

 

“Or just pop a few flakes in your mouth by themselves,” Dirk added as he lowered me into my chair. “Carry them around in a little Ziploc baggie.”

 

“They're illicit drugs, not raisins,” I said, craning my head back to look at Dirk.

 

He shrugged as he wheeled me towards the building. “Just keeping your options open, since you're so determined to die face down in a filthy gutter.”

 

“Mm, nah,” I said, turning back around. “If I'm overdosing, I'm doin’ it with fuckin’ class. Maybe... in some rich white kid's bedroom. 3am. Propped up on a dozen downy bleach-white pillows, needle buried deep in my arm, surrounded by a bunch of other strung out honor students who're all too fucked up themselves to notice I've stopped breathing. I notice the walls are a nice cream and burgundy as everything in my field of vision fades to black. Only the cleaning lady realizes I'm gone in the morning when she's turning over the vomit soaked sheets.” I looked back up at Dirk. “But don't worry, I'm sure they'd pay you off with enough money to have a nice funeral for me so you don't spill the beans that little straight-A Jennifer and varsity quarterback Thomas are secretly hardcore meth heads.”

 

“That's insinuating that I'd even _want_ to have a funeral for you, but if that's how you're gonna do it, how could I possibly say no?” Dirk said. “I _will_ have to take the Von-Trapps’ bribe money for myself, though. You get an unmarked grave and a plywood box. No preservation, no nothing. Just you and the dirt and some wood.”

 

“Just do make my room the porno room, would you?” I asked as we approached the front desk. “If only to honor my memory.”

 

The nurse behind the counter knit her eyebrows together just a tiny bit and glanced up at Dirk for a split second before shaking her head and asking for his information.

 

“Of course. Where else would I keep the giant horse dildos and car shaped butt plugs for when I start a porn production company in your honor?” The nurse up from her computer and at Dirk again. I could barely hold back a snicker.

 

“Right, right. That's kind of you, though, making something in my honor that'll be consumed by millions all over the world. Seems like the _opposite_ of what you'd want.”

 

“Maybe in this hypothetical I'm feeling generous,” Dirk said as we went to go sit in the waiting room. It was only a couple of minutes before a nurse came and called my name and took me back so I could change into a gown and get the follow up scans we’d come in for. It was easy. They took a few x-rays, a CT, and an MRI. The whole thing only took a couple hours. We waited in the exam room for 10 minutes, then 20, then 40, until after almost an hour and twenty minutes another nurse finally came and took us to Dr. Scratch’s office.

 

His bald head was glistening under the bright fluorescent lights. He was frowning at his computer monitor, his face drawn in thought. He was rubbing his chin absentmindedly and he looked almost surprised when he noticed we were waiting at the door.

 

“Oh! You're here. Yes, yes, please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. Dirk sat. I wheeled up to the other chair and hoisted myself into it. Dr. Scratch looked at the monitor for a few more seconds and then turned to the two of us and clasped his hands on the desk.

 

“So,” he said. “It's been one month. We've taken new x-rays, new CTs, a new MRI, and based on what we've seen so far it's looking very good. I suppose most importantly is it hasn't had any kind of dramatic growth, only a millimeter or two in five weeks, which is phenomenal. It hasn't moved at all, and it hasn't metastasized to anywhere else in the body, which is good because that decreases the chances that it being malignant.” He stopped for a moment, as if he were waiting for us to digest all of it. Except, he still had this weird look on his face, like he was relieved and worried at the same time.

 

“Alright,” Dirk said after a few moments. “That's... That's good. Right?” He glanced over at me for a moment. “It's probably benign, then?”

 

“Mm hmm,” Dr. Scratch said, nodding his head. “It's more likely that it is. But...” He closed his eyes and sighed softly. “We did... notice some things during today's visit.”

 

“Like what?” I found myself saying, almost involuntarily. Dirk glanced over at me and Dr. Scratch cut his eyes to me. His eyebrows were still drawn in concern.

 

“Well. Upon looking at the tumor and its location in more detail, we discovered that it sits in a sort of... webbing, you could say, of built fibrous scar tissue from your previous surgeries. It also seems to be situated near a tangle of good sized blood vessels, probably also a result of one surgery or another.”

 

I felt fear kick up in my chest, burning dully and turning my stomach. My hand, resting on my lap, tightened its grip on my jeans just a tiny bit.

 

“What does that mean?” I asked softly.

 

“It means that it's a very good thing we didn't do the biopsy now. If we hadn't know that was there, we could've nicked something and caused considerable internal bleeding. Not necessarily fatal, we don't think, but we probably would've had to perform emergency surgery to fix it. So that's good.” Dr. Scratch reached up to rub his head, sighing wearily. “But. That _also_ means that the extraction is probably going to be a bit more complicated than we initially thought. In an operating room, we _can_ afford to sever some of the vessels in order to reach the tumor, but it's potentially dangerous since we don't know what they might be supplying.”

 

“Oh.” My face felt cold and my chest was hurting worse now. I closed my eyes for a moment, swallowing hard. “Ok. Ok. That's...”

 

“I understand that it's upsetting and scary, but you don't need to worry, Dave,” Dr. Scratch said, trying to sound reassuring.

 

“I'm just... I-I need some air,” I mumbled, turning away from him and reaching for my wheelchair.

 

“Dave,” Dirk said as I got in and unlocked my wheels.

 

“I'm fine,”  I muttered as I left the room.

 

In the hallway, I stopped for a moment, closing my eyes again and pressing my face into my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut hard for a few seconds before I relaxed and sighed sharply. I turned and went to go sit in the waiting room for Dirk. After a few minutes of twiddling my thumbs and staring at my shoes, Dirk came back out. He came and stood beside me and once I noticed him, we left without a word.

 

“Is everything ok?” Dirk asked the moment I buckled my seatbelt in the car.

 

I stopped for a moment. “Yeah. I'm fine I just... I don't know, I thought we were paying all this money so I could see a bunch of _doctors_ , not a bunch of fucking idiots.”

 

“Dave,” Dirk said warningly.

 

“I mean, c'mon, something this big and important and it takes them a fuckin’ _month_ to notice it? What kind of bullshit is that?”

 

“Well, this thing isn't exactly dressed up in Christmas lights. It's hard to notice stuff like this and it's a million times easier to miss it.”

 

“Huh. It's almost like it's their fucking job to notice shit like this.” I rolled my eyes. “What, 12 years of med school? You'd think they'd be a little smarter--”

 

“Shut up. We're lucky they at least noticed it so soon. At least now they have time to do something about it.”

 

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “That's what they said about the tumor, too,” I muttered.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing.” I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes. “I just...”

 

Dirk sighed. “I know, Dave. But getting pissed about it won't help anyone.”

 

I didn't say anything. I tried not to think about the disgusting, pulsating mass currently growing in my thigh. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dirk glance over at me.

 

“I feel shitty bringing this up right now, but... I have to go out tonight. I probably won't be home until late.” He looked over at me. “Think you'll be alright spending the evening on your own? Or do you want me to stay?”

 

I looked over at him for a second and shook my head. “Nah, ‘s fine. I can handle myself for one night.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah. I could use a little time by myself anyways.”

 

“Ok.”

 

The rest of the ride, I resigned myself to looking out the window as the world went rolling by, silently seething. Those assholes had the audacity to tell me I had a fucking tumor and then a month later say there was a chance they couldn't even get rid of it. Bullshit. I'd already disliked all the hospital visits and the nurses prodding and stabbing me and the cold metal machines, but now I flat out hated it all. I hated the doctors and all their medical knowledge bullshit, and the nurses and how they always tried to look sympathetic even when their voices said otherwise, and the sterile white numbness of the inside of an MRI machine. I hated it all.

 

Dirk pulled into the driveway and got out so he could help me into my wheelchair, and then left to go see a man about a dog or whatever the hell he was doing. When I got inside, I closed my eyes for a few moments, trying to get myself to calm down a little bit. I ran my hand through my hair, letting it rest there for a little bit and sighed again. I wheeled myself into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

 

5 beers. Maybe it was a lot; I couldn't tell anymore. It wasn't like Dirk would notice either way. It seemed like he got a new case every week, and he'd stopped counting them at night a year and a half ago. Even still, I wanted to play it safe, even though I knew this many would barely make a dent on my mood. You take what you can get. I went to my room and by the time I settled myself on my bed I'd already guzzled down one and a half of the beers. I put the remaining three on my nightstand, within full view of the door, and put my arm behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. I sipped on my beer.

 

I had a small, but growing, tumor buried in my thigh, almost as deep as the bone. A _tumor._

 

Another sip.

 

And it was surrounded by so much scar tissue that they couldn't even biopsy it.

 

Another sip.

 

 _And_ it was connected to a series of blood vessels that could easily make me bleed out if any of them were cut the wrong way.

 

Another sip. I opened a new can.

 

 _And_ if I didn't bleed out, at the very least some part of my leg would become blood deprived and start rotting off.

 

Another sip. Closer to a mouthful, really. My head started feeling fuzzy.

 

Which at the very least meant some kind of removal and at the very worst meant full on amputation.

 

Another mouthful. The beer was almost half empty now.

 

Which doesn't seem so bad, considering how little I use them anyways, but the aesthetic of having two full legs was still, y'know, kind of nice. And amputation was serious business anyways, regardless of how it ended up looking. And if my legs got gangrenous there was a considerable chance of it spreading to my blood and then the rest of my body and killing me.

 

Another mouthful. The beer was empty. I crushed the can in my hand. My fist was trembling a little from how tightly I was holding onto it. The edges of the crumpled aluminum dug into my palm and fingers. I didn't care. I close my eyes.

 

And I was only 16.

 

“Shit,” I whispered, my eyes beginning to burn and sting.

 

I was probably overthinking all of this. I mean, all that had happened now was the thing had grown a tiny bit, hardly enough to even consider worth noting. Realistically, they were gonna take it out no problem and everything would all be fine and it would ultimately just be another surgery under my belt, albeit one that made me feel pretty shitty.

 

But I wasn't thinking realistically then. I was pretty buzzed, just starting to edge into actual drunken territory, and I tended to rationalize pretty fucking badly when I was drunk. It wasn't even like I was all that concerned with what was or wasn't realistically gonna happen to me. _My_ main issue then was the unfairness of it all. I mean, hell, I'd already been in a near-fatal car accident when I was just a kid, and then this not even ten years later? It was fucked up, no matter how you looked at it. I mean, sure. Maybe the tumor was benign. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Maybe there wasn't even a tumor in the first place and the doctors had just royally fucked up _again_. But how could I know? How could I know it wasn't suddenly turning into cancer as I sat, practically chugging down another beer, or that there wasn't another one growing in some deep dark unreachable corner of my body? How could I know that by next month they wouldn't tell me I _did_ have cancer?

 

I opened my fifth can. I'd been right; I wasn't even remotely drunk enough. I silently cursed Dirk for drinking only beer and nothing stronger (likely because of me more than anything) and I silently cursed myself for letting my tolerance get as high as it had. Before... all this, I'd been about a year and a half sober, but my tolerance was still through the roof, especially compared to every other pimpley horndog I ended up rubbing elbows with at every party I went to. At the very, very barest minimum, though, I was starting to feel somewhat relaxed, which was good enough for me considering to circumstances. I looked over at my phone as I picked up the empty beer cans and slid them under my bed, (far enough that they were pretty much invisible unless you were looking carefully) half considering calling John. I knew his dad drank wine sometimes, and a few times I'd seen him with a glass a fourth full of amber whiskey and a few melting ice cubes. But I knew he'd start asking questions, especially since it was the middle of the week in the middle of the afternoon.

 

Or maybe even Vriska. Her parents were probably still out of town, if she was already planning her next party. I knew she wouldn't care; she'd hardly noticed the date or the time, since she was always looking for an excuse to drink as well. But I decided against it. I liked her, sure, but I didn't like her enough to spend any time alone with her guzzling down vodka. I wasn't _that_ desperate.

 

I sighed softly, running a hand through my hair. At least the anxiety and the panic in my chest had lessened enough that I felt like I could breathe again. For the time being, this was ok. I could deal like this. I hoisted myself back into my wheelchair and went back into the kitchen so I could find something to eat. When I opened the fridge, I glanced over at the case of beer, still full enough that you wouldn't notice the ones I'd taken. I could've snuck a few more, maybe two. Three if I was lucky, but that was pushing it. I could've made up for how relatively sober I still felt. I thought for a few moments, and then reached into the fridge.

 

I pulled out a cold slice of pizza from a few nights ago. I didn't want Dirk getting even a little suspicious.

 

I went out into the living room and turned on the TV, more so just to find something to occupy myself with rather than to actually watch it. As I ate and stared aimlessly at the bright images on the screen, I could feel myself getting a little bit drunker as more of the alcohol started slowly getting into my system. I reveled in the feeling as I started calming down more, enough that I could push all the shit from earlier from my mind and finally just relax. Within a couple hours, I was starting to nod off a little bit. I was getting bored with the TV and I’d all but forgotten what I was upset about earlier. I hauled myself into my wheelchair, fumbling to get it steady a handful of times, and wandered around the house. I considered going into Dirk's room, but decided against it, just in case I found some horrifying secret of his that scarred me for life. Eventually I ended up in the kitchen again, my elbows on my knees as I searched the fridge for something else to eat. I was struggling a little to keep my eyes open and when they were open I kept glancing over at the case of beer. Would it really be so bad if I took a couple more?

 

 _Yeah. It would. Dirk would notice and he'd never stop giving you hell for it_ , I told myself.

 

I sighed, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. That was true. I didn't want Dirk blowing up at me and hovering around me like a helicopter for the next four months. Grudgingly, I closed the door slowly and went back to my room. I stretched out on my bed and stared up at my ceiling, just a tiny bit pissed.

 

I must've nodded off again because the next thing I knew I was awake and the walls of my room were awash in moonlight. I sat up slowly and then paused when I heard creaking and fumbling, and then the sound of the front door being unlocked and pushed open slowly. It squeaked loudly and I heard Dirk swear under his breath. He was still for a few seconds before he slowly closed and locked the door.

 

I reached for my phone on my nightstand. Almost 1am. He didn't tend to get ever home this late, and especially not on a Thursday. Where had he been this whole time?

 

His footsteps got louder as he trudged to his room. Reflexively, I glanced at where my bed met the wall, where I knew the empty beer cans were hidden. Even though I knew it was irrational from the start, I breathed a soft sigh of relief when he went into his bedroom and not mine. I laid back, glancing at my door and checking the time again. I could ask him about it later. I had to be up in 4 hours and more likely than not I was gonna be at least a little hungover. Dirk and his whereabouts weren't the most pressing of concerns. I got back into my wheelchair so I could close my door and change into my pajamas, and within a couple minutes of getting into bed I was knocked out.

 

When I opened my eyes, I thought that maybe I was dying.

 

I sat up slowly, rubbing my head and groaning softly. Yep. I was right. I had a hangover. It wasn't horrible--not even close to the worst I'd ever had--but it was considerable worse than the last time I'd done this. My head was throbbing dully, barely enough to notice but still just a little too hard to fully ignore. I felt exhausted, no thanks to the 4 and a half hours of sleep I'd gotten, and the light from my phone made my eyes burn. I made my way to the bathroom slowly and in the dark.

 

“Son of a--” I hissed when I turned on the bathroom light, apparently too tired to realize how much it would hurt. I rubbed at my eyes, already annoyed with the day, and managed to shower and brush my teeth with them squinted and just barely open. I went and got changed back in the soothing dimness of my room, and was already in the kitchen contemplating death when Dirk came padding from his room.

 

“Is _that_ what you're wearing into work?” I asked, forcing myself to keep my eyes all the way open. They stung like I had put salt in them, making my head hurt worse. “I had no idea that's what Casual Friday looked like.”

 

Dirk glanced at the clock on the oven and swore softly. “Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “No. This is what I'm wearing to drop you off, since I overslept. I'm going for the ‘overworked, disgruntled soccer mom’ look.” He was wearing an old set of sweats and a beat up pair of house shoes.

 

“Do overworked disgruntled soccer moms usually come home at 1am?”

 

Dirk was quiet for a moment. “If anything, I should ask what _you_ were doing up at 1am,” he said back, searching for his keys on the cluttered counter.

 

“Why, I simply was waiting for my dear older brother to return to our home.” I pulled my backpack onto my lap and then hung it on the back of my wheelchair.

 

“Huh. Is that so?”

 

“Of course.” I couldn't stop myself from flinching a tiny bit at the brightness of the sun when we went outside. “Might I ask exactly what you were doing out until 1am?”

 

“Nothing you'd find interesting. Boring adult stuff,” Dirk said as he picked me up. “Your breath smells like shit, by the way.”

 

“Yes, I know, and boring adult stuff as in taxes or boring adult stuff as in Jake?”

 

“If you really think I stayed out past 1 because I was doing taxes, then yes.”

 

“Good to know. But then when _I_ stay out past midnight--”

 

“--You get in trouble because you're 16 and your curfew is 12. Yes, that's correct,” Dirk said as he turned the car on. “Reminds me, what did you do all alone by yourself?”

 

“Boring teenager stuff,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Nothing you'd be too interested in.”

 

“Boring teenager stuff as in drugs or boring teenager stuff as in booze?”

 

I looked out the window for a moment, flinching a bit when the shine off a passing car caught my eye and made my head throb sharply. “Boring teenager stuff as in cold pizza.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Yeah. Why, were you expecting me to fuck up or something?”

 

Dirk shrugged. “Not... exactly. But I will say that I think I fucked up some of the tax forms because of you.”

 

“That's a funny thing to call your boyfriend’s dick,” I murmured, leaning my head against the window and closing my eyes. I should've been mad at Dirk for blatantly not trusting me. I would've, ordinarily. But at that moment I was just a little too tired and a little too hungover, so I let it go.

 

After Dirk dropped me off, I let the facade fall away, rubbing wearily at my eyes and hunching over in exhaustion. I could only pretend to be ok for so long. When I got into the building, the fluorescent lights seemed blindingly bright and everyone seemed to want to just stand in the middle of the hallway. By the time I got to my locker I was so on edge I about wanted to strangle someone.

 

“Dave?”

 

“W-- Oh.” I relaxed when I turned and saw that it was Karkat standing beside me. “Hey,” I mumbled.

 

He looked at me for a moment. “Are you ok?” he asked carefully.

 

“Uh... yeah. Yeah. I'm just... I-I went to bed kinda late. But I'm fine though. What's up?”

 

“I... um... wanted to talk about... l-last Friday,” Karkat mumbled, looking away and brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “At the, um, party.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Did you, un, m-mean it when you said all that stuff about... um...” Karkat's cheeks and ears turned pink and he tugged at a stray lock of hair by his ear, “k-kissing someone?”

 

My cheeks got warm as well. Shit. “Oh. Um.” I was struggling to come up with something to say, some way to deflect it. I didn't want to answer that. Not now, anyways. Not when I was hungover; not while I had my guard down like this. “That. Yeah. Um... I don't really... uh... I'm not... really...” I sighed, pressing my palm against my eye. “I'm... kinda tired right now, so I can't really... Plus it was a little while ago so... maybe. I don't know.” I turned away from him. “Sorry.”

 

Karkat was quiet for a moment. “Oh,” he said softly. I heard his shoes against the floor as he shifted. “That's... um... ok. I wasn't really... um...” He stopped for another moment. “Don't, um--” He was cut off by the sound of the bell.

 

“I'm... gonna stop by the nurse's office,” I said, grabbing hold of my wheels. “You can go on to class.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. I wouldn't want you to be late. I'll be fine.”

 

Karkat lingered for a few more seconds, and then slowly turned and walked in the direction of our classroom. I sighed heavily. Guess I could add that to the list of things I've fucked up while I was drunk or hungover. I ran a hand through my hair and turned to go to the nurse's office to see if I couldn't lay down for a little bit.

 

_Whatever._

 

***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hows it goin guys
> 
> this took about..29 days. i know. i know. its shitty. im sorry. hyperfixating on one au for three weeks isnt ideal. but. at the very least i finished it 
> 
> expect the same for the next few chapters ((i am sorry but??? writing is goddamn hard???))
> 
> i hope u enjoyed this bullshit ass chapter though!! the next couple r gonna be more interesting i promise
> 
> alright
> 
> ok
> 
> see you next chapter


	17. Chapter 16

TEREZI: 4ND TH4T W4S ALL H3 S4ID? R34LLY?

 

Karkat put his cigarette between his lips, puffing on it as he responded to Terezi’s text.

 

KARKAT: YES.

 

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

 

Karkat was sitting outside in the backyard, his back against the rough brick wall next to the porch. It was almost noon, which meant Kankri was already milling around the house. He'd discovered weeks ago that you couldn't see someone who was where he was unless you came all the way outside, and Kankri rarely came into the backyard. Especially not now, when the sky was grey and overcast as if it might rain. Karkat was safe for at least twenty more minutes.

 

Karkat exhaled a lungful of smoke, the usually soothing dry burning in the back of his throat doing little for his nervousness. He sighed softly as his phone buzzed on the concrete beside him.

 

TEREZI: IDK M4N :/

 

TEREZI: M4YB3 TH4T W4SNT WH4T H3 M34NT TO S4Y? M4YB3 YOU JUST PUT HIM ON TH3 SPOT 4ND H3 COULDNT THINK OF 4NYTHING TO S4Y

 

KARKAT: HE SOUNDED A LOT MORE LIKE HE JUST DIDN’T REMEMBER IT AT ALL.

 

TEREZI: 4W CMON KK YOU KNOW TH4TS NOT TRU3. YOUR3 PR3TTY UNFORG3TT4BLE3 >;]

 

KARKAT: STOP. I'M BEING SERIOUS.

 

KARKAT: I DID WHAT YOU SAID. I ASKED HIM ABOUT IT. OR I TRIED TO. IT DIDN’T WORK. SO IT’S OFFICIAL NOW.

 

KARKAT: HE DOESN’T REMEMBER US KISSING.

 

TEREZI: TH4TS NOT TRU3.  YOU DONT KNOW FOR SUR3.

 

KARKAT: HE WAS TOO DRUNK TO REMEMBER ANY OF IT.

 

KARKAT: THIS PROVES IT MORE THAN ANYTHING.

 

TEREZI: NO IT DO3SNT >:T

 

TEREZI: YOU JUST H4V3 TO TRY 4G4IN. NO GOOD 3XP3RIM3NT H4S JUST ON3 TRI4L.

 

KARKAT: YOU FAILED BIOLOGY FRESHMAN YEAR.

 

TEREZI: YES, BUT IF I R3M3MB3R 4NYTHING ITS TH4T

 

KARKAT: HES GONNA THINK ITS CREEPY IF I KEEP ASKING ABOUT IT

 

TEREZI: 4ND YOUR3 GONN4 THINK ITS S4D WH3N H3 G3TS 4 BOYFRI3ND TH4TS NOT YOU

 

Karkat huffed softly. He brought the rest of his cigarette, just barely a stub, to his lips and sucked in one last drag before he ground it out in the dirt, pushing it down so that it was buried. He closed his eyes, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds longer than usual. As he exhaled, he looked his phone again.

 

KARKAT: FINE.

 

KARKAT: I’LL TRY AND ASK HIM ABOUT IT ON MONDAY

 

TEREZI: GOOD >:]

 

KARKAT: BE QUIET. IM ONLY DOING IT SO YOULL SHUT UP ABOUT IT

 

TEREZI: 4W DONT 4CT LIK3 YOU DONT LOV3 M3 >;]

 

“Karkat?” Kankri's voice sounded muffled from inside the house. Karkat quickly grabbed his pack of cigarettes and his lighter and swiftly slipped them into his pocket just as he heard the sliding door open.

 

“Oh. Here you are. I've been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “What're you doing out here?” Kankri looked neat and put together, his clothes ironed and bright and his hair done carefully, even though it was noon on a Saturday. Meanwhile, Karkat was in the same pants he'd been wearing the past two days and one of his old hoodies, which he was starting to suspect had been washed last in New York. It annoyed Karkat how good Kankri seemed at all of this.

 

“I was just getting some air,” Karkat mumbled to himself, picking at a hangnail with a dirt stained finger. “Or whatever.”

 

“Oh. Well, you'd better get ready. We're leaving in a little bit.”

 

Karkat didn't mention that he already _was_ ready and instead stood up, following Kankri inside. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Terezi.

 

KARKAT: I GOTTA GO SOON.

 

TEREZI: WHY :?

 

KARKAT: THERAPIST.

 

TEREZI: OH YOUR3 STILL WITH H3R?

 

TEREZI: I FIGUR3D YOU WOULD4 STORM3D OUTT4 TH3R3 W33KS 4GO

 

KARKAT: NO. NOT WHILE KANKRI CAN STILL FORCE ME TO GO AS LONG AS ITS “FOR MY SAFETY AND MENTAL HEALTH”

 

TEREZI: 3W SORRY :[

 

TEREZI: 4T L34ST YOU C4N THINK OF D4V3 WHIL3 YOU3 TH3R3

 

KARKAT: I GUESS.

 

Karkat went into his room and changed into a slightly cleaner pair of jeans and a slightly less disgusting hoodie. He paused for a moment, holding his pack of cigarettes. When he checked inside, there was only one left. He took it out and looked at it in his hand. After a moment he sighed and slipped it into his pocket. A second later, his door swung up and he jumped.

 

“Karkat, are you ready yet--”

 

“Kankri, I swear to fucking God, can't you fucking _knock_?!” Karkat snapped, pushing it and his lighter deeper into his pocket as he whipped around.

 

“Language,” Kankri said. “And I apologize. Are you ready yet? We're already late.”

 

Karkat huffed in annoyance and picked up his phone. “Fine. Yeah. Whatever. We can go now.”

 

“Karkat, are you--”

 

“I'm _fine_.”

 

Kankri scowled a bit as he passed, but said nothing more. As they walked out to the car, Karkat glanced over at the coat rack by the door. Cronus's leather jacket was missing.

 

_Shit,_ Karkat thought to himself as he climbed into the passenger seat.

 

Karkat watched their townhouse grow smaller as they backed out of the driveway and drove down the street. He leaned his elbow on the windowsill, sighing heavily. Everything looked dull here, all the colors washed out and faded, all the buildings old and crumbling, all the people worn out and exhausted. As they waited at a red light, a few miniscule beads of water landed on the windshield and by the time the light turned green it was raining decently hard, the drumming of the drops on the roof just barely audible under the radio. Even the weather seemed to agree with him.

 

They pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later. The rain had weakened some into a halfhearted sprinkle. Karkat pulled up his hood and got out of the car before Kankri, shoving his hands into his pockets. When Kankri caught up with him in the elevator, he was absently toying with his last cigarette. He'd only had two that morning and he was already starting to crave another one. He sighed again.

 

When they got to the waiting room, they were barely there for two minutes before Karkat's name was being called and he was taken back to the therapist’s office. The office was somewhat dim, and it smelled of vanilla. The therapist smiled at Karkat when he sat down.

 

“Hello, Karkat.”

 

“Hi,” he mumbled flatly.

 

“How are you? How have you been?”

 

Karkat shrugged.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“I don't know.” Karkat stopped for a moment. “I'm still here, I guess.”

 

“That's true. Is that good or bad?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

The therapist nodded. “How have things been at school?”

 

“Decent.”

 

“How have your friends been?”

 

Karkat shrugged. “Decent, I think.”

 

“Did you spend much time around them this week?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you usually spend much time with your friends?” she asked, turning her head to the side a bit.

 

“Sometimes. It depends.”

 

“Did you used to in New York?”

 

Karkat looked down at his hands, picking gently at the peeling bandage on his hand. He hadn't changed it yet. “Yeah.”

 

“What was different there?”

 

“I don't know.

I think I just knew more people there.”

 

“Did you have very many friends in New York?”

 

“...No. Not really. Just Terezi and Sollux, I think.”

 

Karkat closed his eyes, exhaling slowly and reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. He was starting to really crave another cigarette.

 

“So. I'd like to talk about your father again today.”

 

Karkat stopped. He looked up at the therapist, his hand falling from his neck. “Why?”

 

“I'd like to know more about him and your relationship with him. I know a little from Kankri and from what you've told me before but I'd like to have a more... in depth understanding,” she said. “Is that alright? Or would you prefer not to?”

 

“What happens if I say no?”

 

“We can talk about something else, and I'll ask about him later. But if you're thinking I'll forget about, know that I won't. We're going to talk about it eventually.”

 

Karkat looked at her, scowling a bit. He looked away and exhaled softly. “...Ok.”

 

“What was he like? As a father?”

 

“He was...” Karkat stopped. He looked down at his lap, gently picking at his nails. “He was decent. I guess.”

 

“Could you explain?”

 

“I mean... He wasn't inherently shitty or anything. Like he never beat me or Kankri, and he wasn't mean or anything. But... he never actually spent any time with us, it seemed like. It seemed like it was always Kankri who was taking care of me.”

 

“He was gone most of the time,” she said, watching him intently.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you know what he was doing usually?”

 

“Church stuff,” Karkat said. “It was always church stuff. Organizing fundraisers or writing the next week’s sermon or planning another protest against whatever thing they were trying to pass at city hall. Shit like that.” Karkat peeled back the edge of his bandage. “It was all he'd ever talk about, whenever he was actually there to talk.” Softly, he muttered, “It was like he cared his fucking congregation more than his actual kids.”

 

“I see. Your father was a pastor, correct?”

 

“Yeah. He had this whole big following in town, not even all just in the church really. He was like... a celebrity or something.”

 

She nodded. “It makes sense that he was always so busy. So it was Kankri who usually took care of you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“To what extent?”

 

“He'd make us dinner most of the week, except for when my dad happened to need something from home and he might show up for a day or two. And he got me up for school in the morning and made sure I had all my school stuff and he helped me with my homework once I got home.” Karkat was quiet for a moment. “And he... made sure I was safe. Shit like that. Shit a dad’s supposed to do.”

 

“He helped raise you, then.”

 

“He pretty much _did_ raise me,” Karkat mumbled.

 

“How long has he been doing this?” she asked.

 

“Since as long as I can remember. I think I started noticing that he was the one who was always doing everything when I was maybe 8 or 9. But I didn't... know it was a real problem until just a couple years ago; until after Kankri left for college. I didn't know that it was... actually a thing, that it had a name and that you could get into trouble for it.”

 

“I see.”

 

Karkat sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. The cigarette was just about burning a hole in his pocket. Surely if he told her he was just going to the bathroom, he might have enough to smoke it.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah. Talking about him is just... a little hard.”

 

“Can I ask how this, him being so absent in your life, affects how you feel about him?”

 

Karkat was quiet for a few moments. “I didn't... know him. I never got the chance to know him, as a dad or as a person. Everyone always talks about how their dads always say this or love doing that and shit like that but I just... never knew him enough for any of that. I didn't even know what he liked, except for church. I couldn't even...” No. Karkat couldn't say that. This was enough. He didn't need to touch that nerve. He was too worn out for that. “I just. Couldn't get myself to care about him, I guess. I never knew him and he never knew me either.”

 

“So you felt isolated most of your childhood,” she said. The way she phrased it sounded more like a statement than a question.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And I suppose Kankri's leaving didn't help very much, did it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Could you talk to me about that?”

 

Karkat was quiet for a few seconds. “He left for college when I was 12. I didn't... understand why he was just abandoning me like that.”

 

“‘Abandoning’?”

 

“It wasn't like my dad was just suddenly gonna start caring about his son,” Karkat said flatly. “He barely even noticed Kankri was gone or that I was still there. He still came home midnight. He was still gone by the time I woke up. I still had to make my own food and get myself to and from school and take care of myself 6 days out of 7. I didn't want to have to do that shit. I was only 12. I _shouldn't_ have had to do that shit when I was 12. I was just a kid. I was used to Kankri doing it, or at least just being there with me so I wasn't completely alone all afternoon and all night. I didn't... _like_ being alone.” Karkat curled his hand into a loose fist, pressing it against his thigh and looking down. “He left me like that for four years.”

 

“I see. Do you think that factors into your resentment towards him?”

 

“It's part of it,” Karkat mumbled.

 

“I expect being around someone else--well, two people now, all the time must be different.”

 

“Yeah. It's a lot harder for me to just... be able to be on my own now. I have a lot less privacy. I guess. And Kankri's always trying to look out for me, but now it just seems... overprotective.”

 

“Well, you understand that's because he wants to make sure you're safe, right?”

 

Karkat nodded silently. He looked down at his hands, at the bandage under his left thumb. He gently ran his other thumb nail along the fraying edge of it, pushing it up a bit. “I know, but... Four years of being on my own and not having anyone there is kinda hard to just let go of.”

 

“I'm aware.” She leaned forward in her seat a bit, clasping her hands. “I _do_ think it'd be worth it to try and see if you can't, though.”

 

Karkat looked at her for a moment, and then cut his eyes away from her, clasping his hand over his bandage. “Fine. Are we done yet?”

 

“We can be done for now. Our time’s almost up anyways. It's good that you're talking about this a little more, though. It's a big step to take. Dealing with this, healing from it, it’s a process. And we're going to take it one step at a time. But this is good progress.”

 

Karkat nodded silently. He followed her out into the waiting room and shoved his hands into his pockets, gently holding his cigarette in his fist. He followed Kankri outside and got into the car silently, staring out the window. He watched the asphalt roll by, grey and dusty as the sky, cracked by thousands and thousands of tires and years and years of use. Karkat thumbed his lighter in his pocket, running the pad of his finger over the cool metal bit.

 

“Cronus was smoking in the house last week,” he murmured as they pulled into the driveway.

 

“He _was_?” Kankri sounded... he didn't know how Kankri sounded. Surprised maybe? Or was it angry? He didn't care anyways.

 

“He told me not to tell you,” Karkat mumbled, running his finger along the rough edge of the lighter’s striker.

 

“Oh.” Now he sounded almost irritated. “I see... Thank you for telling me.”

 

“Why are you marrying him again?”

 

Kankri sighed softly. “I don't know. He has some, and I stress _some_ , good qualities, I supposed.” Kankri turned the car off and gently rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Karkat left him there, getting out and walking into the house. Cronus's jacket was gone. Karkat went to his room, lingering there for a bit before he picked up his towel and went into the bathroom to shower. He stripped off his clothes, pausing for a moment to glare at his scrawny pasty body in the mirror. When he got in, he turned the water on, flinching a tiny bit when it hit him, and he lingered with his hand on the knob. Twisting it to the left as far as possible would probably scald him. Maybe, if he was lucky, enough to send him to the hospital. After a brief moment, he let go.

 

Karkat just stood there for a little while, letting the water spray on him, soaking his hair so that it got plastered to his face and covered his eyes. He brushed it back, tilting his face up to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

 

_It was December. The air was so cold it hurt to breathe and you could feel your face start to thaw once you came inside. It was warm in the church, though. It was always warm in the church. Karkat knew that from all the sweltering days of vacation bible school he'd suffered through. This one was different though, which made the phenomenon that much stranger. This wasn't their church. It was a much, much bigger one a few towns over, where his dad was guest preaching on Christmas Eve. It was huge compared to the tiny 6-room chapel back at home, all grey stone edges and soaring arches and sharp, pointed spires. It looked almost like a castle, Karkat thought. The inside was no less ornate either, with complicated mosaics all over the walls, and shiny marble floors, and thick wreaths and garland adorning every surface possible. The chapel was a cavernous, echoing space with great arching ceilings so high the curved rafters were difficult to make out. The beautifully carved pews faced the altar and the statue of Jesus Christ, bright and shining, looked regal as ever._

 

_Karkat quietly opened one eye and looked around at the array of sharply dressed people in the pews around him, heads bowed and silent except for his father reciting the prayer. They were in the middle of worship, and they'd already been there for half an hour. Karkat was starting to get bored, but he'd been trying his best to focus on what his father was preaching up front. He had his head down now, his hands gesturing as expressively as usual as he spoke._

 

_Beside him, he heard someone clear his throat. When he looked over, he saw Kankri looking at him sternly at him with one eye. He nodded slightly towards the front and closed his eye again. Karkat frowned at him, but closed his eyes again and pressed his hands together back in his lap. Kankri was always scolded him every Sunday for not paying attention during church, as if he had some kind of authority just because he was 11 and sometimes sat with the other big kids, and Karkat was only 7 and always had to stay next to their dad._

 

_A few seconds later, Karkat's father finally said, “Amen,” and everyone one relaxed, opening their eyes and looking back at the altar. His father smiled and stepped away, as everyone stood for worship and the choir filed down to the front. This was the most ok part of the service, Karkat thought. It had music, and their choir was actually pretty good sometimes. And the Christmas songs were better than the ones they usually sang._

 

_Karkat tugged on his stiff suit jacket as his father came and stood beside him. His heart fluttered briefly in his chest._

 

_“Dad--” he started to whisper. Kankri shushed him harshly. Karkat turned to stick his tongue out at him, and when he turned back, his father had glanced down at him briefly. His eyes seemed to soften for a moment, and then he was looking at the front again. Karkat kept looking at him, taking in every detail of his face as the congregation began to sing. It was “O Holy Night.” Karkat knew the words, but he didn't sing along._

 

_O holy night, the stars are brightly shining..._

 

_He felt... unusual. His heart was beating faster than usual in his chest and he felt jittery and nervous. His dad had just come to stand beside him, and suddenly he'd gotten so excited. He kept worrying about how close he was standing to him or whether he was fidgeting too much or if he was standing too relaxed or if he looked too much like he was bored. He didn't want him getting mad at him, even though he never had in the past._

 

_It is the night of your dearest savior’s birth…_

 

_Karkat furrowed his eyebrows a bit. He couldn't remember the last time his dad had yelled at him. It had always been Kankri telling him to sit still or stop talking or pay attention. And even the conversations with his dad that he_ could _remember all seemed... weirdly short. A handful of sentences maybe. No more than a few minutes._

 

_Long lay the world, in sin and error pining…_

 

_What had they talked about? He could only think of a couple times when he'd asked him about school or homework or anything else. The most Karkat ever heard his voice was on Sunday, at church. And even then, it was loud, because he always shouted his sermons, and thunderous because of the acoustics of the chapel. He didn't_ really _know what his speaking voice sounded like._

 

_“Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!”_

 

_The voices of the choir soared and swelled as they reached the climax of the verse. The sound echoed and reverberated throughout the cavernous expanse of the chapel, bouncing off of every inch of the stone interior and swelling to fill every single nook and cranny; each harmony layering over and over themselves and each other until it became a beautiful, rich, ethereal mess of praise._

 

_“O night divine, the night when Christ was born...”_

 

_All of the rest of the congregation was overcome with emotion. Most of them had their arms raise, hands splayed open and palms facing the sky. Some were hunched over and had their heads and shoulders bowed over their clasped hands. Still others had their heads tipped back, faces to the ceiling, eyes closed tightly, tears on their cheeks. Even Kankri had one of his hands held out, as if he were grasping for something. Karkat felt a warm tingling spread from his scalp down to his toes as he listened to the warbling chord. He inhaled softly, in awe of it himself. Worship was his favorite part of the service._

 

_“O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!”_

 

_Karkat looked over at his father. He had his eyes shut tightly, his face drawn with emotion and conviction. He had his hands held out, palms open to the sky, and was mouthing the words. His father, nearly beside himself with emotion and love. He was never like this at home. Only here, among a congregation in the middle of a chapel, was he really himself. This was the only thing Karkat really knew about him. It felt odd. He was his father after all. Shouldn't he have known him better? Shouldn't he have known him at all?_

_  
“O night, O Holy Night, O night divine...”_

 

Karkat blinked. The water hitting him was cold now. His skin was covered in goosebumps and the place where the spray had been hitting him felt numb now. Karkat shook his head and sighed sharply. He finished washing himself and got out, still shivering even when he swaddled himself in his towel. He scratched at his left hand and recoiled when it stung sharply. He looked down and found he'd left the bandage on his hand, and now it was soaked and peeling off. He scoffed in annoyance and ripped it the rest of the way off, tossing in the trash on his way back to his room.

 

He dried himself off and got into a clean sweater and jeans. From his other hoodie’s pocket, he retrieved his cigarette and lighter. He padded out into the living room. Kankri was on the couch, reading a book. Cronus was nowhere to be found. Karkat carefully walked back into the hallway and tiptoed into Kankri and Cronus's bedroom. Carefully, he searched Kankri's bedside table and his drawers and even their trash can until his fingers found the rectangular shape of the unopened pack of cigarettes he knew Cronus's would have brought home and he knew Kankri would've confiscated. He slid it into his pocket and slipped from their room, putting everything back the way he found it. He mumbled to Kankri that he was going for a walk and left, going to his secret bench. Secretly, he was excited. This was the first time he'd gotten an entire unopened pack to himself. He tucked it into his pocket and pulled out the one he'd had before. He took a long first drag on it, letting the burning tightness in his chest grow until he couldn't stand it. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as he did.

 

Now that he thought about it, he did hate that therapist.

 

***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys.
> 
> yesterday ((9/18)) was my birthday!! im 16 now!!! not much has changed. im still a piece of shit. i still take too long to update. now i can just legally get my drivers license.
> 
> next chapters coming ,, eventually, i assume,,
> 
> daves gna be a huge piece of shit again thats p much it
> 
> haha im only half joking
> 
> ok
> 
> alright
> 
> see you next chapter


	18. Chapter 17

“So, you're just gonna keep ignoring me then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because we have work to do, and I don't really wanna fail this class.”

 

I scoffed softly, leaning my cheek on my fist. “This thing’s only worth like 20 points. It’s not exactly a test.”

 

“I already have a C in this class,” Karkat murmured, writing something down on his worksheet. “And my brother won't let me hear the end of it if I don't get up to at least a B, so I'll take any points I can get.”

 

I nodded slowly, drumming my thumb on my own half blank worksheet. “Hmm. Weren't you supposed to be some kind of super genius or something? Seeing as you're in a class for juniors.”

 

Karkat chuckled softly. “Maybe. But it's kinda hard to get your homework done when y--” He stopped for a moment, his hand freezing. He blinked once and then shook his head. He tapped his pencil against his desk once and then inhaled. “Whatever. Just because I'm in this class doesn't mean I actually understand shit.” He wrote down a few more words and then glanced up at me. “Does that mean you're just gonna stare at me for the rest of class instead of actually working?”

 

I grinned. “Would that be a problem?”

 

“No...” Karkat said slowly, looking down at his paper again. “But I think I can't possibly be interesting enough to stare at for 15 minutes.”

 

“You are, don't worry,” I said with a small grin. “Plus, there's plenty of stuff I can imagine you doing, too. Just in case looking isn't enough.”

 

Karkat didn't look up, but I could see his ears turn pink. “Sure,” he mumbled, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. A second later, it sprung back into place, curling forward against his temple. A couple of minutes later, he absentmindedly reached up again to brush it back again. He didn't notice when it went sprung back a second time. From the angle I was watching him, I could see how thick and dark his eyelashes were; the way they curled back towards his eyelids. He stopped working for a moment, resting his thumb against his lips as he thought. They looked warm and soft and perfectly pursed as his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly in frustration.

 

“Holy shit, you _are_ just gonna stare at me until we're done,” he murmured. When I snapped back into reality, I saw that his eyes were trained on me, half lidded in annoyance.

 

“I thought you said you were ok with it.”

 

“It's fucking _creepy_. Cut it out. Maybe try doing your fucking work for once?”

 

I pouted. “That sounds boring.”

 

“School’s not supposed to be piles and piles of fun,” Karkat muttered, gently tapping his eraser against his paper. “You're supposed to work hard and put up with a bunch of bullshit now so that it pays off later.”

 

“I think I've already been through my fair share of bullshit,” I said. “Not much of it has paid off yet, I don't think. If anything, it's made some things even shittier.”

 

“I mean bullshit as in studying and shit, not... personal bullshit.”

 

“D’you think personal bullshit pays off eventually too?” I asked, putting my chin in my palm again and gently drumming my fingers against my cheek. “Or do some people just go through a bunch of really shitty stuff and then just die with an overall shitty life, without anything else really worthwhile happening to offset the rest of the shit?”

 

“I think you sound like an idiot right now, and I think you'd have a better grade if you put this much energy and thought into your schoolwork,” Karkat said, “but, I guess to answer your question, no. There isn't any kind of karma system like that. If you have a shitty life, then that's that. It's all just blind unluckiness, I guess.” The bell rang and we started packing up our stuff.

 

“Huh. I beg to differ, I think.”

 

“Really. And just why is that?”

 

“Well, things have been pretty shitty for me for a while now, but I still met you,” I said, giving him a sly grin as we went to the cafeteria. “I'd say that's a fair bit of luck.”

 

Karkat looked over at me, his cheeks pink again. He huffed softly and looked away.

 

“Whatever,” he murmured, shrugging his backpack on.

 

“No, I'm serious this time. I mean, not to degrade my other friends that much, but pretty much everyone here I've known since I was in elementary school. But _you're_ still new. I'm still finding stuff out about you. It keeps me interested. I like it. Not to mention how much cuter you are than anyone here.”

 

“Shut up,” Karkat said, readjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder and then tucking another lock of hair behind his bright red ear.

 

“I can't. You're cute when you blush.”

 

“I'll learn how to not blush, then,” Karkat muttered as we entered the cafeteria. “Just to spite you.”

 

“Have you always been this bitter?”

 

“I wasn't before, I don't think.”

 

“Before what?”

 

“Bef--” Karkat stopped again. He furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his mouth into a straight line before he shook his head a little. “Nothing. When I live in New York. When I didn't have to deal with _you_ every day.”

 

“I cannot _possibly_ be as shitty as you're always making me out to be,” I said as we approached the table. “I mean, look, would someone as shitty as me have this many friends?” I asked, sweeping my arm out to gesture at John and Feferi and Nepeta.

 

“Three people. _Wow_ ,” Karkat said as he sat down. “A whole one more than me.”

 

“I never even really wanted to be his friend,” John added, leaning towards Karkat over the table. “I actually think he kinda hated me when we first met.”

 

“Would you kindly shut the fuck up?” I said to John sweetly.

 

“He forced me into this,” John continued.

 

“Yeah, but you haven't abandoned me yet,” I pointed out.

 

John shrugged. “Stockholm syndrome.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Get out while you still can,” John said to Karkat again. “He's a horrible person.”

 

I flipped John off and glanced over at Karkat. “He’s lying. He’s been in love with me since the day we met. And you know me. I'm not _that_ bad.”

 

“You're _decent_ ,” Karkat murmured. “At best.”

 

I chuckled softly, crossing my arms on the table and leaning my cheek on my fist. “If I were just ‘decent,’ I don't think you woulda stuck with me for a month and a half. There has to be at least something about you find... _attractive_.” When Karkat's cheeks flushed again and he shoved me, I grinned. “Well, you're not denying it.”

 

“You were just the first person I met here. I must've... imprinted on you or something,” he mumbled, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

 

“Like a bird?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Kind of ironic, right? Since you're Kar _kat_ and everything.”

 

“Just shut the fuck up, ok?”

 

At that moment, Vriska came stalking over to the table, throwing herself down in her seat and dropping her lunch tray loudly on the table. Her face was drawn and sour, and she huffed in annoyance. When she noticed everyone staring at her, she scowled even deeper.

 

“Physics teacher is a fucking bitch,” she growled, “who will take your _90-point_ test and give you a 0 for the slightest fucking thing.”

 

“And exactly what did you do?”  John asked.

 

“She asked a kid if she could borrow his calculator. Which Mrs. McWinston specifically said at the beginning of the test we couldn't do,” Feferi said, approaching the table and sitting beside Vriska. “And then she called her a bitch very loudly, and then Mrs. McWinston took her test.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, and then long story short I called her a sack of shit, and she called _me_ a lazy drop out and she tried to send me to the office but the bell rang, but she still made me stay and started chewing me out, so I bolted when she tried to write me a slip.” Vriska sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Shitty of her, I know. But it's not like I was gonna finish that shitty fucking test of hers anyways. So, it's whatever.” Vriska sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she did. “But enough about that shit” She turned to face the table. “I’ve been bored lately. Y’know? Like, really bored. I haven’t had shit to do the past two weekends, and I’m not really riding much on the hope that any of you assholes have good enough social lives to pull through for me this weekend either. And if you know me...” She let her gaze fall on Karkat. “When you eventually get to know me, you know I hate being bored. I get shitty when I’m bored. Being bored isn’t fun.”

 

“Is there a point to all this? Or are you just giving us your stance on boredom for fun?” I asked.

 

“I’m glad you asked, Strider. Long story short, I’m having a party in a couple weeks, you’re all ‘invited,’ and if you don’t show up we’re not friends anymore,” Vriska said, twirling a lock of jet black hair around her shiny silver finger. “Or whatever.”

Everyone at the table nodded and gave a chorus of mumbled “Ok” s and “I’ll be there” s.

 

“Another one?” Karkat asked softly.

 

“Yes, _another one_ , because I get bored easily and I don’t like being bored,” Vriska snapped. “Plus, my mom’s got a whole collection of vintage wine that I’d feel shitty drinking all on my own.” She glanced over at me and jerked her chin in my direction. “‘S why this one’s invited, anyways.”

 

I grinned a bit. “And that's the only reason why I'm coming.”

 

“Good enough for me,” Vriska said with a shrug. “So yeah. That. It's ok, _I guess_ , if you can't make it, but just know I'll probably hate you forever.”

 

Karkat just frowned at her and rolled his eyes. When lunch was over, he quietly followed me out of the cafeteria, walking a little ways behind me. He was tugging on the strap of his backpack and looking down at his feet.

 

“Hey. You alright?” I asked him, slowing down a bit so he could catch up with me.

 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” he murmured. He exhaled a soft laugh and readjusted his backpack strap. “Yeah. Just... I haven't been to this many parties in a row since... _ever_ , I think.” He exhaled softly. “Wasn't that popular in New York.”

 

“I told you she had a lot of parties,” I said with a small smile. “It's gonna be fine, though. I swear. Last one wasn't so bad, was it?”

 

Karkat smiled a tiny bit. “I guess.”

 

“See? And this time you don't even have to pretend to socialize with anyone. You can just show up and get wasted. No one’ll say a thing.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes. “It's not like I'm going just to get drunk.”

 

“Why else would you go? ‘S not like you're trying to fuckin’ _bond_ with me or anyone else or somethin’ like that.”

 

“It's because _you're_ forcing me,” Karkat said pointedly. “And unlikely you, I actually understand common courtesy, so I'm going because you asked me to last time.”

 

“Yeah. ‘Common courtesy.’ Sure”

 

“Plus, it's not like I have anything better to do that weekend,” Karkat muttered. “Might as well spend the whole night trapped in a shitty sweaty deathtrap with dozens of strangers.”

 

I laughed as we approached Karkat's classroom. “Do you always complain this much about everything?”

 

“Just shit like this.”

 

“It's gonna be fine, dude. I swear.” As I turned to leave, I winked at him and grinned. “Just like last time.”

 

I heard him start softly, but I didn't turn to look at him. Half because I was already almost late to my next class and half because I was trying to figure out what I'd just said and why I'd just said it. Just because he’d reacted didn't necessarily mean he knew I was talking about us kissing. Plenty of other stuff happened that night. He could've thought I was just talking about any of that shit instead. Or maybe he didn't think I meant anything at all. Maybe he just thought it was more of my shitty flirting. It was probably fine. I was just overreacting. And even if he had known what I meant, it didn't really matter. I still didn't know whether he actually liked me back.

 

“You're overthinking again,” I murmured to myself during my next class. I was right. None of it even mattered. It was just some little thing I'd said. It didn't matter. But at the same time, I felt my heart beat a little faster as I went down to the pickup area after dismissal. I was hoping to maybe talk to Karkat a little before we both had to leave, but even after I'd been there a few minutes he was missing and by the time I saw Dirk’s car pull up he still hadn't arrived yet. As I wheeled myself outside, I saw a car I thought I recognized as his brother’s. I frowned a tiny bit. I could still text him at home, I told myself.

 

“Hey.” Dirk was leaning against the car door as I approached, arms folded.

 

“Hey,” I mumbled, wheeling over to the passenger side. I slid my arms around his neck as he lifted me from my wheelchair, staring ahead at the front of the school. Out of the corner of my eye, near the corner of the school where they put the dumpsters, I saw a brief flash of black and grey and tan and a mass of wildly curly hair. I blinked, but before I could get another look or try to figure out who it was, the top of the car blocked my field of view as Dirk lowered me into the passenger seat. I tried to look through the driver's side window to see if I couldn't make out who or whatever I'd seen. But the flash was gone now and I didn't even see anyone else back there.

 

“What you starin’ at?” Dirk asked as he closed the back door and slid into his own seat.

 

“Tryin’ to figure out how I'd get my wheelchair up on the roof and whether it'd be feasible for me to bring it down with me or somehow drag myself out and crawl over the edge, or just have someone tip me over onto the pavement,” I said, sitting back in my seat.

 

“How about none of the above,” Dirk said. “It'd be too much of a bitch trying to scrape you off the sidewalk.”

 

“Is that the only reason why?” I asked as he turned on the car.

 

“No. Part of it's because you're my brother and I care about you and would rather not have to bury you at 16. But mostly I just don't wanna have to scrape your ugly mug off the concrete.”

 

“Mm.” I leaned my elbow against the window.

 

“I think it'd be better if you paid some scrawny freshman to tip you out on the sidewalk, in my opinion. That way I can keep the chair; it'd probably fetch a decent price on EBay or something.”

 

“Would you at least use that to pay towards my funeral?” I mumbled.

 

“Nope. Don't forget, you're getting a shitty plywood coffin and nothing more.”

 

“Ah yes. Of course.” I leaned my cheek on my fist and closing my eyes, sighing softly as I did. What I didn't tell Dirk was how I was suddenly fixated on it, the idea of dying. The feeling of your life slowly slipping away from you like water through your fingers; of your very being slowly being sapped of any and all energy, even just the energy to breathe; of knowing you're finally reaching the end of everything you've ever known.

 

“You alright?” Dirk asked after a few minutes of silence.

 

I kept my eyes closed for a moment, trying to pull myself back into reality and the realness of existing. I opened my eyes and softly said, “What if I bring the chair down with me so that it gets ruined, just to piss you off?”

 

“That'd be a real bastard move,” he said.

 

“You're a real bastard of a brother. Seems fair to me.”

 

Dirk smirked and exhaled a soft chuckle. “You'd be dead if you didn't have me.”

 

“I wouldn't be in a wheelchair if I didn't have you.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. Dirk didn't say anything for a few moments. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile a little bit.

 

“Touché.”

 

I forced a smirk and looked out the window again. I didn't know why I suddenly felt so crappy. I'd been fine a minute ago. I was quiet for the rest of the ride home and I retreated to my room almost immediately, mumbling to Dirk that I had homework I needed to make up so that he wouldn't get concerned over me staying in there for the rest of the night.

 

I closed the door gently behind me, lingering with my palm flat against it for a moment. Carefully, I got out of my wheelchair and laid down on the floor, stretching out so that my head was right in front of the door and my feet were a couple feet from my bed. I'd forgotten how tall I was supposed to be.

 

I stared up at the ceiling, listening to myself breathe. I heard the house creak softly and the muffled sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. I was focusing on breathing now, trying not to inhale too slowly or too little. It sounded almost fake now that I was controlling it, like some kind of exaggerated panting.

 

I didn't know exactly what was wrong or how I was feeling, but I knew _something_ was wrong. My chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it, and dully hollow, like maybe someone had taken out my lungs and my heart while I wasn't looking. I didn't feel sad, I didn't think. I couldn't tell. My head felt foggy and clouded more than anything. I let out a soft dry chuckle. Here I was, getting all scared and depressed over my own suicide joke. Was I really that fragile now?

 

I sat up. I ran a hand through my hair slowly, curling my fingers into claws as I did, so that when I took my hand away there were a few strands of curly blond hair twisted around my fingers. I reached up and found another stray hair and twirled it around my finger until it pulled out with a short flare of pain. I closed my eyes, pressing my palm against my eye.

 

In all honesty, I wanted to drink. Not get drunk, I didn’t think, but just enough to take the edge off. I knew I couldn’t, not with how many I’d already stolen earlier and definitely not with Dirk home. But still, the dull longing in my chest was only making me feel worse and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to put up with it for much longer.

 

I laid back down and as I did, I pulled out my phone. I pulled up John’s contact and looked at it for a moment. His contact picture was part of a selfie I’d taken with him while I thought he wasn’t looking. He’d managed to twist around and scowl at the camera before I could react. His face was half blurred and both his eyes were in the process of closing, making him look drunk and disoriented. It was an older picture, almost a year and a half old now and John had been trying to convince me to change it ever since then, claiming that if anything ever happened to me and the police had to search my phone, they'd be “really fucking confused” by the picture and probably get “the wrong idea about him as a person.”

 

I looked at the tiny round picture once more and then exhaled softly and pressed the phone icon beside John’s name. I was being healthy, wasn't I? This was what normal people did when they were sad, they called their friends and talked through it instead of ignoring it and getting shit faced drunk in the middle of the afternoon. I was “reaching out to my support system,” as they called it.

 

The line kept ringing and ringing, and I was starting to doubt whether I actually wanted to talk to him when John finally picked up.

 

“Hullo?” he said, his voice muffled and crackly. Over the phone. I heard tinny video game gunfire and screaming.

 

“Hey,” I mumbled. “‘S up?”

 

“Well, _I'm_ just trying to hone up my skills on this fucking level so I can _cream_ you next time we play,” John replied smugly. I heard a muffled explosion and the sound of the game harshly proclaiming John’s character had died and then John swearing softly.

 

I exhaled a soft chuckle. Did I really want to ruin his day like this? He didn’t need to know I was feeling like shit. I could deal with it on my own. I had been for a long time now. This was no different; I didn’t need to fuck with his good mood too.

 

John sighed harshly and the game sounds stopped. “I can finish that later before I throw my controller through the window. But yeah, what’s up man?”

 

I started to open my mouth to respond but I stopped. I pressed my palm against my eye, squeezing them shut as my chest suddenly got tight. Why did it feel like I was suddenly fucking up everything I did lately? I would be fine on my own. I'd been fine on my own before. I could do it now. I didn't need to drag John down with me.

 

“It's, uh...” I started, my voice softer than usual. I cleared my throat. “It's nothin’. Never mind.”

 

“Oh.” I couldn't tell how John sounded. Hopefully not concerned. “Are you sure? Is everything alright?”

 

_Fuck._ I closed my eyes tighter, pressing my fist against my forehead. I bit my lip hard to keep from shouting. “Yeah. I'm fine. I just... was bored, or some shit. Wanted to hear the sweet sound of your hormone-bathed mid-pubescent vocal chords doing their best to make your voice crack every other sentence.”

 

I heard John scoff softly. “My voice doesn't crack _that_ _much_ anymore.”

 

“Right. And I'm not clinically depressed.”

 

I heard John chuckle softly as my free hand slid around to rest against my throat, distantly wondering how long I'd have to squeeze to lose consciousness.

 

“So, you only called me to insult me, then?” John asked.

 

I forced myself to smile. “Pretty much.”

 

“Huh. _Thanks_ ,” John said pointedly. “If that's really all you're doing, I'm going back to this match.”

 

“Might as well,” I added as I heard him unpause the game. “You need your practice. Wouldn't want a repeat of last time’s match.”

 

“Fuck you,” John murmured. “I can't focus on you _and_ the game. I'll see you tomorrow.”

 

“If I don't get more crippled before then,” I said before I hung up. I set my phone down on the floor beside my leg and pressed my palms over my eyes. I was such a fucking idiot. This wasn't even the first time I'd chickened out about telling John I was feeling shitty again. It wasn't even the first time since they found the tumor. It was an old habit, but it was one I'd already promised way too many people way too long ago I'd break. It had already gotten me in trouble before, big shitty major trouble that almost completely shattered Dirk’s trust in me, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell John I was thinking about killing myself again. I couldn't do that to him. I knew how much he’d started overthinking it and panicking and probably end up telling Dirk or someone and it would turn into this whole big, unnecessary shitty thing. It was just better for everyone if I kept it to myself.

 

At least I'd tried to talk about it. I used to do this, keeping all my feelings bottled up to myself so I didn't bother anyone else, a ton when I was in the hospital, right after the accident. That was how I'd fucked things up with John so badly. That was what landed me in the hospital a second time 18 months later.

 

The hospital. I could still remember it so vividly. I'd been in and out countless times for various surgeries and tests, but those two times always stuck out in my memory while the rest got muddled into one seemingly endless bleach scented blur. Especially the first time, since I'd been there the longest, almost a month and a half. Sometimes, it felt like I could remember every single day there. I could still recall…

 

_...the beeping. It was the heart monitor, always perfectly in time with the dull thumping of my heart in my chest. It wasn't loud or jarring, but it was always there, always in the back of my mind, reminding me where I was and what was going on. For days, I couldn't sleep because that thing was keeping me from relaxing enough to fall asleep. Even after the nurses turned the volume down to the lowest setting, the beeping kept waking me up in the middle of the night. I knew they couldn't turn it off--I learned that the hard way when I ripped off one of the leads in a fit of anger--but it still pissed me off to no end._

 

_For once though, I wasn't annoyed by the beeping. I was annoyed by something else. John was sitting in one of the chairs next to my bed, looking at me with a vaguely uncomfortable look on his face. He was gnawing on his bottom lip again and he looked like he wanted to say something else. He'd been visiting me relentlessly since I'd been here. He'd come almost every single day for 3 and a half weeks, except for Wednesdays because he had piano lessons. It sounded sweet of him, considering how much I'd been through, but all he ever did was talk about boring shit that happened at school and bring me homework that I never did, and when he wasn't talking I could tell he was trying not to look at me and my legs and my machines and my bandages._ I _was just trying to ignore both him and the beeping, but it was hard and I was losing my patience quickly._

 

_I heard John take a small inhale and then shift in his seat again. I saw him look down from the corner of my eye._

 

_“Rose... twisted her ankle during gym--” he started._

 

_“I don't care,” I muttered flatly._

 

_John stopped and then shifted again. “When she t-tripped, her foot twisted all the way backwards and Jade thre--”_

 

_“I said I don't care.”_

 

_“Well then, w-what do you want to--”_

 

_“I don't wanna talk about anything.” I looked away from John, towards the door. I wanted to roll over. I couldn't. I didn't want John to see me try._

 

_John was quiet for another moment. “Do you... wanna do anything else?”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_More shifting. He was probably hunching over in that pathetic way he did whenever anyone was mean to him. I heard him breathe softly again._

 

_“Do you want me to leave?” he asked quietly._

 

_“I don't know. I'm tired. I just wanna go to sleep.”_

 

_“I heard the nurse say yesterday you're sleeping too much,” John mumbled._

 

_“I don't care what the nurse says. It's not like she can make me not sleep.” I closed my eyes, resting my palm against my forehead. “You know what, maybe you should go. I don't want you tattling on me or something shitty like that.”_

 

_John didn't respond. I heard the chair creak and saw him stand up out of the corner of my eyes. I heard papers rustling and when I looked over he was putting more worksheets on the already teetering pile of untouched homework. I scoffed sharply. “I swear to fucking god,” I muttered._

 

_“The teachers get--” John started. He closed his eyes and looked down. “I don't want you to fail or something.”_

 

_“Does it even matter? Who knows? I could start hemorrhaging out my stomach again. Or my heart could stop again. Or I could turn out to have an aneurysm like they thought before and it could kill me. Then it wouldn't even matter,” I said flatly._

 

_John looked at me, alarmed. His eyebrows knit together worriedly. “D-don't say that,” he whispered._

 

_I rolled my eyes. “I was just joking. God.” He got so scared over every little thing now. Maybe he was being careful and watching out for me, but all it did was piss me off even more. “No need to be a fucking baby about it.”_

 

_John didn't reply. I suddenly noticed the incessant beeping again and I groaned in annoyance, pinching the bridge of my nose._

 

_“Are you gonna leave or not?”_

 

_John still didn't say anything, but I heard him sniffle almost imperceptibly, like he didn't want me to hear, and then start shuffling towards the door again. I stared ahead at the wall across from my bed, trying to ignore him and his dumb tears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stop by the sink near the door._

 

_“S... see you tomorrow,” he mumbled quietly._

 

_“Don't even bother,” I spat back._

 

I exhaled slowly. Yeah. The hospital. John. I remembered it.

 

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. I rubbed my hand down my face and sighed wearily, and then felt something hit the top of my head with a hard, painful _thunk._ I hissed and sat up and heard Dirk and I mutter in unison, “What the fuck?”

 

I dragged myself a little bit away from the door and twisted around to find Dirk peeking his head in, a look of bewilderment on his face.

 

“What the fuck were you doing?” he asked.

 

“Um. Wallowing.”

 

“In front of your fucking door?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Dirk just looked at me for a moment and then pressed his mouth into a straight line. “Ok... It's better than finding your limp, exsanguinated body like I thought I was going to, I guess.”

 

“Like I'd do it in my room this time,” I murmured.

 

“Mm.” Dirk shook his head. “But yeah. Anyways. I was coming to check on you. You seemed kind of...”

 

“Shitty?” I offered.

 

“I guess, yeah, in the car earlier. And I'm your brother. I'm supposed to address shit like that.”

 

I shrugged. “I'm fine. The overwhelming inevitability of death and crushing moral weight my own mortality finally caught up with me, I think. But it's fine. A little depression never hurt nobody.”

 

“You of all people should know that's a complete fucking lie, but ok. Do you wanna like... talk about it or anything?”

 

“Does this not count as us talking about it?”

 

“I mean like _actually_ talk about it. Without all the self-deprecating suicide jokes.”

 

“Oh. Then no.”

 

“You sure?”

 

I was quiet for a moment. The empty hollow feeling in my chest was a little better, but I knew the second Dirk left it'd be back. But at the same time, I still wasn't in the mood to bear my entire soul to anyone, especially Dirk, just because I felt “kind of sad.”

 

“Yeah,” I said. “I'll be fine. Gotta learn to self soothe and all that.”

 

“You're not an infant,” Dirk said. “But ok. Whatever you want.”

 

“Could you maybe knock next time?” I asked, turning back around to face my bed.

 

“Could you make not wallow right in front of the door next time?” Dirk shot back.

 

I exhaled a soft chuckle to myself. Just as I'd guessed, my chest was starting to feel tight again. I pressed my palm against my eye and sighed shakily.

 

“Fuckin’ asshole.”

 

***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fucking shit hi hello what the fuck is fuckin up my dudes
> 
> lots of ,, stuff has happened since september 19th Yikes um,, i could go into specifics but i probably wont ? uh the gist of it ig was just like ,, a solid 2 months ((and six days give or take)) of fuckin Terrible i was just like straight up Clinically Depressed for 8 goddammn weeks or some shit man it fuckin sucked plus then also One Other Thing ((myboyfriendleftmeverysuddenlyitwasincrediblyemotionallytraumaticistillhaventactuallyrecovered))
> 
> i also got a job and i am also sick rn but ! whatever who cares the chapter is Here Now n thats what matters ya i hope yall like it tho ! will chapter 18 also take an extra month ??? probably. i apologize in advance. 
> 
> mm.
> 
> alright.
> 
> ok.
> 
> see you next chapter.


End file.
